


Follow Me

by mmerainbows



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Comic Book Science, M/M, Mutant Powers, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 91,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmerainbows/pseuds/mmerainbows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In a world where being born gay is not as bad as being born with abilities, and where the government regulates those with superpowers, Kurt and Blaine find one another under different circumstances. Together they have to decide on their paths in this world, and decide if those paths will converge or split them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The binding had to be tight. That was the only way Kurt could be sure everything was kept in. Every day seemed harder when it came to binding. It seemed like he needed to pull tighter and use more of the fleshy colored elastic fabric to hide his deformities. Just last month he had custom made a corset for himself. It hurt, of course. Those things on his back would feel numb once he was done wrapping them away, and he spent most of his day trying to ignore the tingle along his back and legs as the blood had to force its way through the constricted parts of his body.

Really though, Kurt just wished they would die and fall off of him. The deformities had started out small, like little pimples on his back, but now they were the same size and weight of the rest of body, and still growing. He had been told by the health nurse at school that puberty was a difficult time for all young men as their bodies changed, so he felt especially irritated that he had this other thing to deal with on top of it.

"Need some help there kiddo?" Burt asked, peering in from the doorway with the same eyes that Kurt had. The eyes were always a dead giveaway to how he felt, and Kurt had had to work hard to develop his acting skills in order to overcome how they always seemed to reflect his emotions and the truth of his words. He couldn't be caught after all, not with those things on his back. His dad was the only other person that knew the truth about Kurt, and had sacrificed a budding romantic relationship with the mother of another student at Kurt's school when it was clear that if things escalated between them, Burt and Kurt would have to tell both the woman and her son the truth about Kurt.

It couldn't be risked.

Kurt nodded his dad's way and turned his back towards him. It was habit at this point in the morning, when Burt was finished his breakfast and wanted to make sure Kurt got off to school before the bell went. Kurt wasn't even sure why his dad always asked if he wanted the help with binding since it was becoming more difficult to tie them back tight enough with only Kurt's own hands.

They worked in silence as Kurt held his breath in while Burt made the knots on his back before moving to Kurt's legs to each bind up the ends of his deformities along each leg. It made his movements stiffer, but it kept things hidden. While Burt worked on binding to Kurt's legs, Kurt grabbed the hard nail file off the desk and began rubbing away the small amount of nail that Kurt had grown since the last night. He couldn't let them get too long or people would see the deformities in his finger nails as well. He did his toenails at night.

"Homeschool Kurt... it's going to be the only way soon..." Burt finally said softly as he stood back up to full height, pulling his cap off and rubbing the back of his arm over his forehead to brush off nonexistent sweat. It was an anxious gesture, the same one Kurt had witnessed when the damned things started growing on him, and one that Burt always made whenever it seemed he really had to think about the way they were affecting his son.

"Homeschooling is the most suspicious thing I can do dad. Every time you hear a news story about a kid getting picked up, it's noted that they were being homeschooled to hide their defect. I can't risk it..."

"But you're not going to be able to tie these things back anymore soon Kurt..."

"I can pull them up front... make a bag. It'll look like I've got a gut... an eating issue or something. I'll make it over the next summer break so it won't be suspicious. I'll have to take out all my clothing..." Kurt hummed thoughtfully as he looked towards his well used sewing machine, "... Or just start making all my own clothing from scratch. That might be the way to do it actually. Then I can make the clothes with hiding the problem in mind..."

"Honestly kid... hiding one problem with another?"

Kurt shook his head as he looked back towards his dad, seeing the worry as clear as day, "Hiding a problem that would get me arrested with one that will just make me less socially acceptable. It's a matter of degree dad."

"Maybe we should see about getting you to Canada... or -"

Kurt cut him off before anything more could be suggested. "Or nothing. I don't want to be away from you dad. Plus, you read the news just as much as I do. You know it doesn't matter anymore. There is no safe havens left for people like me... the United Nations is going to pass that act and that'll be it. There's no reason they wouldn't. Hell, if I hadn't started growing these things, people like you and I would have agreed with the act."

"You're not going to burn down buildings, or steal money out of vaults, or threaten to expose secrets though Kurt... you're not the same as the rest of them... You're not a level five..."

"No. But I'm definitely not a level one either, and no one is quite clear on the differences between two, three, and four. I'm just as likely to end up under house arrest as I am to end up being sent off to that island of freaks."

That ended the conversation. Neither of them wanted to talk about the details any more. They had exhausted that particular line of conversation over and over, and had come up with nothing new. Nothing that would stop the inevitable anyhow. Kurt was ultimately just buying time. He knew it couldn't be hidden forever, but he would keep them out of people's eyes for as long as he could. Whatever came after that he had accepted - death, imprisonment, being banished to the island, or any other consequence for the thing he couldn't control.

"Better get off to school son." Burt said finally, forcing out the choked on words with the underlying message being:  _I love you._

Kurt nodded, pulling on a loose, but stiff, shirt that would keep its form and not show that he was hiding anything underneath his clothing. The same happened with his jeans - loose and belted at the waist. He longed to wear clothes that would showcase the small amount of muscle he had, but it was definitely not an option since it would showcase so much more than that.

His dad received a quick peck on the cheek as Kurt grabbed his bag and left, calling back, "I'll see you at supper. My turn to cook remember!"  _I love you too._

School was a predictable cycle of note-taking, avoiding bullies in red letterman jackets, and feigning interest in whatever the small circle of pseudo-friends he had were talking about at lunch and on breaks.

They weren't bad people. It was just the only reason Kurt associated with them in the first place was because they were losers like himself. Mercedes was a busty, black woman who stuck out in an otherwise very white community whose only interaction with black culture was the stereotypes doled out in the media. Mike and Tina were both asian and faced similar institutionalized racism in the community, despite the fact that Tina had been adopted by a white, Jewish family and Mike was on the football team. Rachel was just... hard to handle. She had big dreams and an even bigger personality that weirded out a lot of "normal" people. Then there was Artie, cursed to sit in a chair for the rest of his life after living through an automobile accident in his youth.

All of them were high achievers in school, and all of them had been tossed in dumpsters, had their heads pushed into toilets, and been teased by the popular kids at school. It was for those reasons that they banded together. Not similar interests or a kin-like connection, but because it was better to have someone to sit with at lunch than sit by yourself. Kurt doubted he would make much of an effort to keep in contact with any of them once he was done high school.

If he finished high school that was.

There were others that he got along with beside the main group of losers, rather, people he had silent mutual respect with. Finn, his almost step-brother, Brittany, who was too oblivious to care about social status, and Sam, who followed his heart and did what was right in the face of opposition. These were people who had made a point to interfere in the bullying Kurt and the group faced. They had good hearts, but fit in with the athletic, white, crowd and therefore had some social standing.

"So..." Mike began that day at lunch, jabbing his fork outward as he spoke towards those around him. "... Nightbird was seen again last night. Broke up some kind of fight at a bar in the parking lot of west Lima."

"Urban legend." Mercedes huffed dismissively with a shake of her head before shovelling the special of the day into her mouth. Probably something potato based, Kurt thought to himself. Mercedes loved anything made of potatoes.

"What kind of name is Nightbird anyhow?" Artie chimed in, as Kurt was thinking about the shaky video footage he'd seen posted online of the guy who wore black with blue striping and seemed to have a superhero fetish. "He doesn't even do anything remotely bird like."

"That's true." Tina noted, finishing chewing her food and swallowing before she continued the train of thought. "No flying, no bird noises, no feathers, no talons... what is his power anyhow?"

"Don't call it a power..." Rachel hissed in a whisper towards Tina. "You know the government doesn't want people treating those... those... "things" like they have gifts."

Kurt swallowed deeply and looked down at the mash on his plate which resembled nothing that looked at all like any food he knew. He hated these kinds of conversations, the ones that were about him even if the others would never know it, yet he had to contribute or risk suspicion.

"Fine." Tina grunted, directing an eye roll towards Rachel. "Afflictions then. What is Nightbird's "affliction"?"

Mike shook his head, "All sorts of theories on the online meta-boards. Ow!"

Rachel had smacked Mike in the side with the mention of meta-boards. She was the last person who ever wanted to do anything to get in trouble, and so was the one who ensured every stayed in line, no matter how minor the situation. Online speculation boards were actually quite rampant, and most people their age belonged to them. Even Kurt trolled boards online to see if there was anyone afflicted with the same problems he had. So far, no luck.

"Like what?" Artie asked of Mike, shooting Rachel his best threatening glare to try and convince her that he needed to know this kind of information come hell or high water.

"Some people figure it's telepathy because of how he knows what's going on... or at least some kind of foresight... others are convinced that maybe he's a speedster because of how quickly he moves... and this one guy has the idea that he's a shapechanger."

"How do people even try to figure out what his affliction is without there being any concrete evidence of his existence anyhow?" Rachel snarled around the leaves of her side salad.

"It's something to do..." Kurt offered with a slight shrug.

"He's part of the new breed." Mike said with an insistent wave of his fork in the air. "The ones who won't comply with the regulations on meta-humans. He's trying to show the world that meta's aren't just trouble, that they can help others with their afflictions."

"Ridiculous." Rachel retorted. "All it takes is a pretty girl or a stack of bills to make him turn and regular humans can't hope to defend against them. You've seen the news. They can freeze people. They can draw the blood out of others. They can make the ground fall out from under you. They need to be regulated for our survival."

To say that the conversation made Kurt's stomach turn was an understatement, and he did more looking at his food than eating it. These were the people he considered as the best option for friends, and yet they either didn't like the idea of his kind of people or had put them up on a vigilante pedestal. He just wanted to be a normal human. That's all he wanted. He was sure it was what anyone with an affliction wanted.

"You okay Kurt?" Mercedes whispered over, looking down at his plate and then up at his face.

Kurt nodded, "Yeah... just... you know I don't like the cafeteria food..."

She snickered at that. It wasn't a lie, just him restating a problem he'd had for awhile and turning it into an excuse for his paleness. The food truly was terrible. "I don't know how you keep the weight on since you barely eat and can't participate in gym class."

His father had forged a document from a doctor to get him out of gym class. That way he didn't have to worry about the issue of changing around anyone else in a locker room. The excuse? A rare allergy to sweat. It had raised the eyebrows of both the gym teacher and the principal, but they didn't have the time to call and confirm with a doctor, so it had been accepted and Kurt had been given a reprieve from something else that would have caused him endless stress.

"I eat a lot at home... where I know what I'm cooking with and where the food came from." Kurt insisted, though the reality was that his deformities being bound against him made him look heavier than he actually was.

"Mmm hmmm..." Mercedes said, either disinterestedly or somehow knowingly - Kurt couldn't decide, and given that the end of lunch bell went off then, he didn't worry over it, taking his lunch tray and dumping the contents into the trash as he made his way to his locker where he found Finn waiting.

"You look tired." Kurt said by way of greeting Finn who had dark circles under his eyes and had been rubbing them with his fists as Kurt approached.

"Sorry... studying all night..."

"Don't apologize. I get it. Mr. Peters is killer with those chemistry tests right?"

Finn nodded and leaned his head against the locker, watching Kurt collect his things. "Hey Kurt...?"

"Mmm?"

"I've been meaning to ask you..." Finn stood up a little straighter as Kurt looked towards him, closing the locker.

"Yeah?"

"Your dad and my mom… I mean… they were good together right? I wasn't just imagining things? I mean… I didn't like it at first 'cause I was used to being the man around the house… but your dad… he made my mom happy..."

Kurt sighed, looking back into the dark locker. They had been good for one another, and Carole had made Burt happy… truly happy. Burt had always told Kurt not to take it as his fault that he had broken it off, but telling Kurt that and forcing Kurt to feel that way were two very different things.

"They were… but I don't think my dad was ready yet."

"Really?"

"Yeah Finn… Really."

"But it's been like…." Finn counted on his fingers for a moment and Kurt allowed him that time. "Eight years since your mom died?... sorry."

"It has…." Kurt said, voice dropping as he thought about how he'd now lived without his mom as long as he'd lived with her, yet it still seemed like yesterday that they were lowering her in the ground.

"... okay man. Fine. I get it. Our parents are a mystery. I just thought I'd see 'cause… you know… she really missed him. Doesn't say it to me, but I can tell."

Kurt didn't, couldn't respond to that, and Finn left then, allowing Kurt to close up his locker with a heavy sigh and amble towards class where his thoughts were clouded with everything but the English he was supposed to be studying. How much more would he and his dad have to give up to hide the stupid things on him? What would happen to his dad when Kurt was ultimately discovered? What would happen to him….

"Shit man! Look outside!"

The cry from one of the students at the window drew everyone's attention to the other wing of the school where flames were jumping out of one of the class windows and up along the wood panelled windows. On cue, a fire alarm rang out and the class quickly rushed out of the room in complete pandemonium while the teacher urged them to stay calm and orderly to no avail. Lazy thoughts were abandoned as Kurt tried to figure out which of the rooms was affected by the fire, confirming that it was a science classroom once he was outside and able to see despite the hoard of students packed together on the field.

Someone cried out, and though Kurt couldn't understand the words he felt drawn to the sound, pushing his way to the front of the student group who were being poorly contained by teachers a dozen meters away from the school edge. Here Kurt could understand the panicked cries. A teacher who had been in one of the classes beside the one on fire was adamant that a couple students were still in there. The boy in the wheelchair hadn't gotten out, nor had the quarterback.

Artie and Finn.

Without thinking at all, Kurt burst away from the perimeter of teachers around the student area and rushed towards the flames. Why wasn't anyone else doing anything? Surely they couldn't just be waiting for the firefighters to come and save the day? What if it was too late then?

Heat pooled off the blaze, which was spreading rapidly in the old, dilapidated building, and Kurt had to bring an arm up to his eyes to help block the smoke as he dove into the open door and into the hallway, ignoring the calls of the teachers and students he had left behind that didn't even care enough to try and hold him back. It only got hotter as he moved closer to the starting point of the fire, but that was where he could hear yelling. Artie and Finn both crying out that they were there and, please, please, come get them out.

It urged Kurt forward, rushing through short flames until he came to a doorway where the door had fallen off its hinges and blocked the way out. He couldn't see his friends through the orange waves and black smoke, but he knew he was close because he could hear them both coughing.

With whatever adrenaline he had in him, Kurt kicked the burning door away from the frame and followed the fading sounds of coughing into the classroom. Artie and Finn were beside a window which had several large cracks in it where it looked like they had tried to bang it open but were now both fading fast as coughs rattled through their bodies which were both slumped over upon themselves.

Behind him, the fire roared like a triumphant devil, and Kurt knew that it would be blocking the way out like the menacing beast it was. He climbed up on the countertop, right into the smoke and began to kick at the window again and again until it felt like he would topple over from the lack of air. That's when the window broke with a sharp clatter, and he could faintly feel shards of glass scratching his ankles. He knelt back down, grabbing Finn by the shoulders first, who was limp now, and handing him out the window to a fireman who was trying to say something to Kurt that his brain couldn't process. Then he pulled a similarly droopy Artie out of his chair and handed him out the window as well.

The adrenaline that had been fuelling his effort seemed to be fading, because Kurt found himself closer and closer to falling flat on his face with the dark fog that had taken over his head. Something on the shelf beside him caught fire and made a large crackle which spooked him into jumping backwards, away from the window and the hope of escape. He had too little energy left, and no clarity left in him to figure out which way to move - even if that way was back onto his feet. He should have paid more attention in that fire awareness class back in elementary school.

There was another clatter of glass, and he could hear a single voice. Strong arms wrapped up under Kurt's neck and his knees to pick him up like his father used to when he was a child. Kurt felt himself being lifted away and the air becoming cooler around him. He had been saved. Or he was dead and there was an afterlife of some sort after all.

The coolness of grass touched his back and he whined sharply, realizing that he was in fact alive and in pain. There was a numb feel around his left ankle, a burning over much of his torso, and an awful ache in his head. To say that everything hurt was putting things lightly, Kurt had to wonder how he was even conscious to experience the horror his body was going through.

"Hey… hey… you alright?"

He knew that sweet voice. He didn't remember from where or when, but given that he barely could figure out his own name in that moment, he didn't force the thought out. Cracking his eyes open, Kurt found that his vision was clouded and that some unknown pressure in his face limited them to opening in slits. It wasn't someone he knew though looking down at him though. Amber eyes encircled in a black mask greeted him instead, and Kurt thought he was dreaming until he took in the rest of the image of the man he had only ever seen in shaky video footage before. This was Nightbird. Lima's vigilante metahuman had gotten him out of the fire... but then... the voice...

"I'm..." Kurt began, but broke into a fit of coughs as the attempt to talk made his lungs flame up. He tried to bring a hand to his mouth to cover and limit the coughing, but like his leg, he found it numb and couldn't get his brain to control it. So he coughed and coughed and coughed, making the itch in his throat worse with each spasm of his lungs. He glanced at the costumed man before him between his pressed in eyes while he coughed, trying to figure out what had just happened and what he had just done without thinking, and then it registered.

"Oh no..."

Nightbird was looking over the rest of Kurt then with wide eyes, and the murmur he was only just registering from the student crowd somewhere behind them had risen to calls and screams and babbling floods.

 _"He has wings!"_  
"He's a meta!"  
"Holy shit!"  
"Are you filming this Lauren?!"  
"How did he hide those things?"  
"Maybe they just grew now!"  
"Oh my god!"

There were already fire truck sirens screaming in the background, but now the distinctive tones of ambulance and police sirens followed. Nightbird looked up from where he had been staring at Kurt's back and Kurt could only watch the hesitation in his eyes as they darted between the coming authorities and Kurt laying on the ground below him.

"Go..." Kurt wheezed, staring up at him. He knew he couldn't move right then, and he knew his secret was exposed through what had to be burned clothing, but that didn't mean they had to catch Nightbird too.

"I… you..."

"Go." Kurt insisted with gravel in his throat, prompting him to cough again, but not before spitting out one last thing.

"Get out of here Nightbird. Before they get you too."

It was the last thing Kurt registered before the smoke trapped in his lungs took over his mind as well, beckoning him to the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Amatuer video from the scene shows…."_   
_"Local student, Kurt Hummel, saves classmates and is revealed as…"_   
_"... Nightbird appeared at McKinley High School following a fire…. "_   
_"Wings man! He had wings! How could we not know he had wings!"_   
_"... a terrorist conspiracy. The government…"_   
_"Senator Adams declined comment…."_   
_"... a reminder from the government that aiding metahumans is against the law…."_

Blaine shut off the line of TV's on the shelf over his computer, tired of the constant repeat of the same story over and over. His stomach was making knots of its own volition and all he could think of to do was to check to see if there had been a response from anyone in the league even though he had just checked his messages no less than thirty seconds ago. Yet again, his inbox failed to give him anything that might be able to help settle his stomach and Blaine returned to fidgeting and glancing over at the bed.

This wasn't supposed to happen here. Not statistically anyhow. Blaine was supposed to be the only unregistered metahuman in the area based on probability. That being said, it was clear that math wasn't on his side in this case. Sure, New York had a few dozen, California had produced about twenty that he knew of, but Ohio? Ohio wasn't as populated as either of those places, and yet that guy, Kurt according to the news, was like him.

No one in the league had told him how to handle meeting up with another meta, much less what to do if he ended up saving one. The crowd had seen it first while Blaine was too focused on making sure the guy was alright, but the hush alerted him that something was amiss, and moving his eyes, he saw the wings. Beautiful white wings, like the ones they always painted angels with, springing free from burnt clothing and elastic binding. Once they started to poke out, there was no stopping them either. It was a flood of white feathers springing loose from the tatters on the guy's body, whose own burns were grotesque and a complete contrast to the gorgeously velvet feathers that he had been hiding under his clothing.

The blare of sirens and a rise in the volume of the crowd had woken Blaine up from his stunned stupor then, eyes jumping up to see officers and firemen that were slowly, hesitantly, advancing on them. God… Blaine didn't have a clue what to do. How could he have?

The guy beckoned him to go though, and despite the plea, Blaine knew there was no way he was going to leave him there to be arrested and assaulted and god knows what else the human government did to people like them. Ignoring the plea from Kurt, he had taken him up into his arms, and made off with him, thankful that his powers allowed him the ability to delay the officials that would have otherwise easily caught up to him.

A groan made Blaine turn to look back at the bed where he had set Kurt hours earlier. Blaine was no doctor, and certainly not sure what to do with the burns covering Kurt's body, but he knew enough to strip off the majority of Kurt's clothing and bindings, leaving him just in ash discolored briefs. Then Blaine had 44to check the internet, only finding less-than-helpful suggestions that burns of Kurt's caliber needed to be seen by a professional and that Blaine should get him to a hospital.

Because that was an option.

Blaine rolled his eyes at the idea and tiptoed over to Kurt's side, or at least as close as he could get to Kurt's side. Freed, those wings spread everywhere. One was climbing up the wall that the bed was pushed against and the other was spread over the floor as far as it could reach. Blaine had watched him sleep, fascinated by the extra appendages this boy possessed. They looked like thin, extra limbs, with a layer of skin stretched between the joints. The limbs were covered in smaller, white feathers, while the rest of the wings had layers of the white feathers that were bigger. It was amazing to think that he had managed to hide those things from the world for so long. While he had slept, Blaine had snuck regular glances at them, watching them twitch as Kurt dreamt, not unlike how his childhood dog would run in his sleep. Those wings ached to be free, and how they rustled while Kurt was unconscious was proof of it.

Another groan made Blaine look away from the wing spread over the ground and back to Kurt's face. He had brought a hand up to rub over it, wincing and hissing at the touch of his own fingers. His eyes flew open then, and Blaine's breath caught at the shock of the blue that jumped right at him. He hadn't expected blue eyes, especially ones so bright against the dark red and black on Kurt's face.

"Where am I? What's going on? Am I dead? Is this the government? Is my dad okay?" came all out of his mouth at once without stop for breath, and Kurt shoved himself up to sit, clearly forcing his way through pain as he gritted his teeth, still white under the blacked skin of his lips. The wings were drawn back as soon as Kurt was able, bunched in close to his back, and Blaine marvelled at how he could control them like that before he remembered that those questions were being directed to him.

"You're in my house. I took you here. You're not dead. I am definitely not the government, and I'm sure your dad is fine. They generally don't go after family." Blaine offered as calmly as he could to try and balance out Kurt's panic.

Kurt was staring at him, looking him up and down until the memory of what had happened must have clicked. "You're Nightbird."

Blaine nodded. He still was in his costume, but the mask was off and the grease paint around his eyes had long ago been washed off as well. "Blaine… my name is Blaine."

"Blaine…. You…" Kurt paused as he looked over the room he was in. It was in Blaine's basement, and far from any grand lair that the superheroes in his comic books had, but it had what he needed - a bed, a mini-fridge, perimeter camera's, TV's for each new's station, and a couple of computers. One corner of the basement was dedicated to his fitness - with a punching bag, weights, and sparring dummy, and another corner hosted a table with some gadgetry he was working on. It was no batcave, but it worked. "... I told you to leave me… you didn't."

Blaine nodded, "No telling what they would have done if they had captured you…"

Kurt seemed to think about that for a moment, and Blaine's eyes debated between looking over those fantastic wings again or looking at those bold, blue eyes. In the end he ended up looking at Kurt's mouth as the next question was asked.

"How bad am I burned?"

"You were very badly burnt… "

"Were?"

Blaine nodded silently, using a remote in his hand to pull up a spreadsheet on the monitor of his closest computer where he had graphed some data earlier. "But after you were here for an hour, I noticed that your burns seemed like they were getting better, much to my relief, … so I measured some of the blisters on you and then again an hour later… and again after that…."

"How long have I been here?"

"Eight hours and some change." Blaine quickly noted before continuing, "Then I did a regression on that data… and you're healing… not instantly like some superhero's in the movies… but much faster than normal humans do."

Kurt stared at the chart on the screen for a moment, eyes dull and void, before looking down at his still scorched arms and grimacing at the blisters covering them. "When will I be totally healed?"

"Uh…. well…." Blaine hadn't thought to make that prediction, and had to zoom into the graph he'd made off the regression formula to see where it intercepted the axis. "Tomorrow morning maybe? You didn't know you could heal like that?"

"No. I didn't..." Kurt looked around again, seeming to purposely avoid eye contact with Blaine. "... do you have some clothes I can borrow then?"

"Oh!" Of course. He was shy about being almost naked. No wonder he was uncomfortable. Generally an almost naked guy would have been cause for Blaine to get uncomfortable too, but with the damage covering Kurt's body, and the allure of the wings, Blaine had barely noticed. "Sure. But you should wait until your skin is healed before you wear clothing… I can get you a blanket to cover yourself with though."

Kurt nodded, and Blaine rushed upstairs to collect one of his softer blankets which he quickly offered to Kurt who took it and wrapped it over himself, taking in a hiss of breath as the fabric hit his skin. "Thank you."

"No problem. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Again Kurt nodded and Blaine left again for the upstairs to make a grilled cheese sandwich and a pour a glass of milk for his guest. This he could do. This at least gave him a purpose until the league responded to his calls for support. He delivered the food in much the same manner as the blanket, and sat at one of his computer chairs, watching Kurt quietly.

Kurt was a silent eater, picking at his food in a way that made Blaine worry that it wasn't to his liking. Was Kurt lactose intolerant? Vegan? God. Blaine should have asked more questions. Kurt was his first guest here and he was already screwing it up.

"Do you have anything I could bind these back with?" Kurt finally asked after a long, carried out hush, bouncing his wings up a bit to indicate just what he was speaking about.

"Your wings? Why would you want to bind them…?" Blaine asked, looking at the feathered appendages in question which Kurt had been holding so tightly against his back since he had regained consciousness.

"Well to fit under the clothing for when I go tomorrow once I'm healed up."

"Go? You can't go." Blaine said with a shake of his head.

"Why can't I? You said you're not the government…. why keep me here?" Kurt asked, chin up, suddenly so defiant. He looked ready to fight, to argue, and Blaine briefly glanced over at the monitor, hoping to see a new message alert. He was not prepared to deal with this.

"Because… you're in danger out there. Where would you even go?"

"Back home." Kurt insisted, staring at Blaine now with such intensity that Blaine had to look away.

"It's not safe there."

"It's always been safe there."

Blaine frowned, slowly reaching for the giant remote he had programmed to work on all the TV's and then turning them on one by one. Each one dedicated to news, each one showing the story that had resulted in Blaine and Kurt being forced into each others lives. Kurt watched them all wide-eyed, paying particular attention to a newer story where his father, Burt, was asking reporters to get off his lawn and otherwise refusing to answer questions about his son. The man looked like he had just had his heart ripped out, and Blaine certainly felt bad for him just by looking at him. Another station had gotten ahold of a school photo of Kurt since Blaine had last watched, and Blaine found himself looking between the photo on the screen, and the scarred, red, blistered man who came to crouch near him in order to watch the story unfold with the media.

"I… I can't go home…." Kurt finally choked out as Blaine tried to figure out where he had seen Kurt before. The school photo had given him pause, as Blaine had realized that he had seen Kurt somewhere. Maybe he had passed him on the street, or seen him at one of his school's open houses… wherever it had been, Blaine was sure Kurt's unburnt face was not one that could be forgotten and was sure, than in time, he'd remember where it was that he had seen him before.

Right now though, that face was a medley of blisters, with despair so set in blue eyes it reminded Blaine of pictures he'd seen in textbooks of children displaced by war. "No… at least not anytime soon."

"What am I supposed to do then?"

Blaine didn't have an answer, and given the lack of alerts still on his computer screen, neither did the league. He understood they all had regular day jobs, but he was having a difficult time believing that none of them had seen the news from Ohio and thought to maybe check in with the only league member they had in Ohio.

"You can stay here… and once the league responds to me -"

"The who?" Kurt cut him off, the place above his eyes where eyebrows had been singed off arching up questioningly.

"The league. It's a group of underground meta's…. like me…"

"Uh huh… and let me guess, Batman commands you all from a satellite in the sky."

Blaine pursed his lips into a tight, thin line. He didn't even need to use any of his skills to determine that Kurt was mocking him with the tone he was using. "No. We all have regular jobs or day-to-day activities, like school for me, and try to show the world that we're not a threat whenever we can."

"Dalton Academy is your day-to-day cover?"

The question, more for seeking confirmation than anything given how Kurt was looking at Blaine so intently, took Blaine aback. Kurt recognized Blaine as well, and knew from where. "Did you… have you gone there? You know who I am?"

"You're the lead singer for the Warblers."

Blaine swallowed the air in his mouth deeply and nodded, racking his brain as hard and as fast as he could to try and figure out where they had met before. His blank eyes being met by Kurt's cool ones, he saw a glimmer of light in Kurt's eyes as the other man realized Blaine couldn't figure it out, and then supplied it for him.

"A lot of my friends are in the New Directions. I come to cheer them on at competitions."

"But you don't join them….?" Blaine asked, more a means of stalling as he rooted around in his brain for memories of his competitions while also trying to determine if Kurt knowing his identity was at all cause for concern.

"I like to sing, but because of these things - " He puffed his wings up a bit. " - I can't move that much… not enough to dance fluidly anyhow."

"But… they have a guy in a wheelchair…" Blaine stammered, thinking back to sectionals… The boy who came to congratulate the New Directions when they had tied with the Warblers. The boy, whose face lit up the stage when he had ascended it and Blaine couldn't look away until Wes had slapped him on the back. That was the boy in the photo, on the news.

In his basement.

"Yeah. But Artie can at least roll around and move his shoulders. I have to be careful about how I step and breathe…."

Blaine's gaze lifted to those magnificent wings behind Kurt. "That's a shame…."

There was silence again. Uncomfortable, heart pounding, eye averting, silence. Then Kurt glanced up. "How'd you get me here? You have a plane… or a Nightbird armored car… or a -"

"Prius."

Kurt blinked a few times, and Blaine could see the sprigs of new lashes growing where they had been burned off earlier in the day. "A Prius? I got rescued in a Prius?"

"It's better for the environment."

"Yeah… but… aren't you guys supposed to have special super vehicles?"

Blaine laughed at that and quickly shook his head. "No. I drive the Prius to school and back…"

"But Dalton's in Westerville… and you showed up so fast…"

"Er…" Blaine tugged at the collar of his costume. "Well the house we're in… it's an acreage that's between Westerville and Lima. It gives me privacy even if I have a longer drive to and from school. As for showing up quickly… that fire actually gave me an excuse to get out of bad date at The Lima Bean."

Kurt made a small snort of laughter. "Really now? Is there any other kind of date but bad at The Lima Bean?"

Blaine chuckled in turn, looking down at his fidgeting hands. He had tried to make the best of the date, but he couldn't help himself, and saw what others couldn't see. Jeremiah was cute, that was certain, and why Blaine had asked him out for coffee in the first place, but he was deceitful, and Blaine had a hard time seeing past that whenever the guy opened up his mouth.

"So… can I at least call my dad? He's got to be so worried… he doesn't know if I'm alive or dead or safe or not..."

Blaine looked back up, nibbling his lips over in turn with his teeth as he considered it. "They'll probably be watching your dad pretty close for the next little while… I wouldn't… I could try to get a message to him though if you really want."

Kurt nodded emphatically, "Yeah… please… he's… All we have is one another."

Blaine offered Kurt a small smile, hoping it was enough to stem his discomfort, though knowing well enough that it wasn't. In a matter of a day Kurt's world had been turned upside-down, and though he seemed to be handling it well enough, Blaine knew people well enough to know when things were boiling just under the surface and Kurt looked ready to spill over.

"Why Nightbird?"

Blaine shook his head, blinking a few times. Of all the questions he expected next, that was not one of them. "Huh?"

"Nightbird. Why Nightbird? It was a topic of conversation just at lunch today for some of the kids I eat lunch with. Do you have bird powers?"

Blaine let out a soft chuckle and reached back with one hand to rub the back of his neck. "No. It's an homage to Nightwing."

"Nightwing?"

"Y'know… Dick Grayson."

Kurt shook his head, eyes blank. Hadn't Kurt just used Batman as a reference? Or was that just a lucky coincidence?

"The first Robin?"

Another head shake, and the same blank look.

"Oh… okay then…" Blaine stood up and shook his own head then. The benefit of going to an all-guys school was that comic book references were generally picked up on pretty easily. It wasn't often he met a guy his own age that didn't know the Batman mythology, yet he seemed to have one in his midst now, and could only address Kurt's lacking knowledge in the best way he knew how.

Blaine walked over to a closet and pulled it open, grinning from ear to ear as he presented his collection of long boxes. "Ta-da!"

The lack of excitement in Kurt's face was more than evident as the winged boy stepped cautiously over to Blaine and looked over the rows and rows of boxes, so meticulously labeled with the comic series they held within them, and then looked at Blaine as if he was waiting for more.

"Oh jeeze…." Blaine grunted, realizing the comic storage wasn't having the desired effect on Kurt and went to the N's, where his collection of Nightwing comics were carefully boarded and covered in individual plastic. Picking a few, where Nightwing was featured prominently on the cover, he held them out to Kurt.

"Oooh…" Kurt said quietly, scanning the picture of the costumed crusader. "So… is his power looking buff in tights?"

"What?! No!" Blaine gawked, letting his jaw hit the floor before he scooped it back up and stammered. "He was Batman's first Robin! When he got older he took on the super-identity of Nightwing! He was even Batman when Batman was dead for awhile! He doesn't have powers. He's just kickass! He's the best gymnast in the world, and he's been trained by Batman as a sleuth, and he can fight in a few different styles, and uses escrima sticks, and -"

Kurt's eyes got a little wider, and Blaine instantly recognized that look. It was the same one his mother had given him when he had gone on a similar tirade several years ago, though at that time it was about Green Lanterns. Kurt thought he was insane.

"Look… just… you're stuck here for awhile anyhow… you can read them if you want… Just make sure they go back into their covers!"

Kurt nodded slowly, eyes still locked on Blaine. "So… you don't have an ability then? You just mimic this guy and have a hero fetish?"

Blaine sighed and rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "No… I do…"

"But it's not a bird related one…"

"No…" Blaine shook his head and looked back up at Kurt. "I'm a level five."

Kurt was quiet at that, looking over Blaine calmly for a moment without the shock or awe that Blaine had almost expected. "Can you read my thoughts?"

Blaine shook his head, "No… I'm not THAT kind of level five."

"But your power is something mentally invasive though… that's what level five's are supposed to be right?"

Blaine sighed, glancing up to the corner of the ceiling for a moment before looking back to Kurt. "Maybe instead of comics, I should let you read the documentation I have about how they determine levels… might help I guess. Not all level five's are mind readers…."

"All things being equal…" Kurt said with an apologetic shrug, "... I think I'd prefer to read that documentation to understand a little bit more about myself. The government is so tight lipped about it all that all I've ever known has been based on rumors."

"That's fair." Blaine said, pushing down a sigh as he took back the comics and carefully put them back in their place. The first person to see his collection since he had moved here and it had to be someone that didn't even appreciate comics. Figured.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Some notes since I don't respond on all of the sites I post this to:_ **

**_For VoyageAsia - The data regression comes from my own background and actually is possible (aside from the fact that someone healing at Kurt's rate isn't possible). I have a degree in math and it is possible to come up with a formula to predict data so long as you have a few data points to base the information off of in the first place and know what kind of function regression you need to do. Where I live, it would be taught in high school in the academic stream of math. Not sure if and where it would be taught anywhere else, but for those fellow math nerds, I envisioned it as an exponential curve where when 0 <a<1, ax^b._**

**_For Charleygyrl - Don't be ashamed about asking someone who Nightwing is. Most people know about Batman and Robin, but only big nerds like me (and potentially your husband), know about the whole "Bat Family". I posted a pic comparing Nightwing to Nightbird on my tumblr for those who follow me there so they knew what the reference was. :)_ **

**_For sabbypandawan - I just love you. You are the cutest and most lovable German out there. If I didn't already know better, I'd want you to have my babies._ **

**_For Jen, Tery, and a few others who mentioned they don't usually get into this kind of genre - Thanks for trying it out for my sake. :) There have been tropes that I usually avoid reading too, but because I loved the author, I took a chance on it as well (Mpreg and missbeizy's Anderson Rose for example). I'm trying to write it so that it's accessible to everyone regardless of their interest in comics. (Though there might be some easter eggs for those that do revel in the graphic art)._ **

**_As always, thanks to the people that have kept me motivated to write through their consistent kind words and mentions: marrionchan, theatrevicki, frumiousme, blainedirtydancing, and so many sweet anon's and people who repost my updates on tumblr. I have so many kisses for you that's it's probably good none of you live close to me._ **

* * *

Kurt's eyes hurt. They had hurt since he had woken up, part of the burning pain flooding through all his nerves, but now they hurt even more. Blaine had folders and folders of files on his computer all dedicated to information he'd gathered and been given about metahumans. There was a folder all for archived news stories relating to meta's and government action on them, a folder on the science theories behind how metahumans came to be (most of which Kurt couldn't follow with all the technical jargon involved), a folder on how governments had been handling metahumans around the world and throughout history since they had appeared, and a folder on definitions and categorization though. Kurt was going through the last one and it was like reading a textbook, full of diagrams and case studies and examples. Blaine had pointed out that he would qualify for a sub-level code of 256 for religious significance (ironic considering Kurt was anything but religious), and 144 for animal related abilities. He had also said not to try and determine what level he was at because the league would conduct tests to help him figure that out.

Kurt was as suspicious of the league as he was of the government. Any group that stayed in the shadows and seemed to be focused on metahumans so much couldn't be anything but trouble. Blaine seemed like a nice enough guy, but the fact that he was so concerned about what the league thought he and Kurt should be doing made Kurt worried about how much hold they had over non-registered metahumans.

He'd run if he needed to though. Now that his secret was exposed and he had been given the chance to be free, he'd avoid all authorities for as long as he could. Somehow he'd need to let his dad know. He could only imagine how worried his dad must be, not knowing if Kurt was alive or dead, safe or not, and if he looked still as bad as the video footage they had been playing on the news stations - all crispy black and red. By all accounts, that video made him look like he was about to die, and that couldn't be good for his dad's heart. Kurt tried to push that concern to the back of his mind.

"So what can you do?" Kurt asked as he decided it was time for a break, glancing over at Blaine who was deeply involved in a messaging session with someone from the league on another computer.

"Uh… like… ability wise?" Blaine asked, finishing off his typing before looking back to Kurt.

"Yeah. Out of curiosity."

"I… well… it's hard to explain."

"Try."

Blaine shifted a little in place, looking up for a minute as he considered his response before looking again to Kurt. He had a habit of staring at Kurt's wings, and even though Kurt knew the rest of his body had to look horrible right now, something about his wings being given so much attention made him more self conscious than if Blaine didn't look at him at all. The blanket covered up most of him, but unfortunately not all of him, the arch of his wings protruding out of the blanket and the feathered bottoms floating all around him like a dress below.

"I guess, aura's would be a good starting place to explain. I can see people's auras…. everyone has some bit of color surrounding them… but it's not constant. It depends on what they're saying and feeling. It's not just one color either… it's usually a few, in varying strengths…"

"You can detect emotions…" Kurt provided, trying to see if he understood.

Blaine nodded, "Yeah… more than that though, I can tell if they're lying, if they're hiding something, if they're anxious... If their aura conflicts with what's coming out of their mouth for example. I can also… project feelings, colors, back onto them…"

Kurt tensed up at that admission, watching Blaine's eyes drift up to the peak of his wings. "How?"

"So… for example. When I picked you up and ran, the firemen and the cops were all there and easily could have caught us. I projected confusion to them, yellows and oranges and some brown, so they wouldn't be able to follow us until it wore off."

"You made them feel confused." Kurt uttered, trying to understand how that would work. Was it like a painting where Blaine could just add the color he wanted to the canvas? If so, where did he get the paint to start with?

Blaine nodded, eyes flickering down from the arch of Kurt's wings down to the tips. "Yeah."

"So in a way, you can read minds."

"Not directly. I had to learn how to read the colors I see, and have done a lot of research on body language to help me understand it. There are documented cases of people who could actually read minds though."

"I saw…" Kurt muttered, glancing over to the computer screen again. Those case studies all concluded the same way. The people with those abilities disappeared, never to be heard from again.

"Anyhow…. it should be interesting to see what the limits of your powers are. Can you fly?"

Kurt shook his head, though in fairness he had never tried. There would have been no where he could have made the attempt, and it wasn't like he wanted to showcase the wings anyhow.

"That's too bad… there are all sorts of cool heroes in comic books that can fly… Angel, Hawkman, Falcon, Dawnstar, Wasp…"

As Blaine prattled on, Kurt zoned out. He remembered Blaine from sectionals, remembered his soulful voice and how gorgeous he had been as he danced onstage. He had moved like a dream and sent tremors through Kurt that set his heart aflutter. Never in a million years would Kurt have presumed the heartthrob to be Nightbird, much less a comic book nerd. It didn't exactly make the man less appealing, but Kurt wasn't in a frame of mind where he felt he could feign interest in comics to avoid hurting the guy's feelings. If Blaine truly could read emotions, he'd have to know that Kurt was beyond stressed and that Blaine shouldn't expect colors of excitement to be showing up around him as Blaine waxed poetic about the difference between gliding superheroes and flying superheroes.

"What am I feeling now?" Kurt interrupted.

Blaine blinked and looked back to Kurt, then around the edges of his person, pupils scanning around him for a moment. "Scared… anxious… worried… sad…"

"Huh…" Kurt huffed, turning to look back at the computer. "Do you do that innately or do you have to turn it on?"

"Turn it on?"

"Like that guy in the news last year… he could shoot flames out of his hands but was able to control when and where he did it."

"I see them all the time, but I'm used to them and generally don't pay attention to them unless I need to… and I didn't have to look at yours to know that's how you felt. Anyone could imagine that's how you were feeling given how your day went."

Kurt pressed his lips tightly against one another, staring at some text at the screen like he was reading it even though the reality was he was so lost in his own mind that he couldn't even make out the words on the screen clearly. This wasn't fair. He had never done anything to deserve this fate, and neither had his dad for that matter. His whole life had been that way though, one problem after another. His mom dying, realizing he was gay, the voice that never dropped, the wings. He could never seem to catch a break, and certainly wasn't going to hope for one now.

Eventually Blaine's eyes fell away from Kurt's wings, realising he wasn't going to get a continuation of the conversation, and the computer he was at was switched off as Blaine stood. "If it's alright, I'm going to get to bed… I still have to show up at school tomorrow."

Kurt looked over, one brow cocked high, "And what am I supposed to do?"

"Sleep, rest, eat. A couple people from the league should be here by tomorrow night and we can go from there."

"What if someone shows up here that shouldn't?"

Blaine turned and tapped a couple black and white screens that were cycling through what Kurt presumed was the outside area. "If anyone parks in the area it'll start to beep and wake me up so I can check it out. The only time it's happened though is someone stopping at the side of the road to pee."

"What about your family?"

Blaine's rosy lips plumped together as he clamped them together and looked back to the screens, deftly avoiding Kurt's curious gaze, "I live here alone. It's safe Kurt."

Kurt knew by the serious tone of Blaine's voice not to question him further, at least not then. He'd eventually have to ask though. Blaine couldn't be any older than he was and living without parents, meta or not, lent itself to concerns. "Alright… not like I have a choice anyhow."

"You won't run will you?" Blaine asked, looking back towards Kurt with sudden trepidation. "I wouldn't want to see you get caught…."

"No…" Kurt shook his head, gesturing to his computer screen. "I've read enough of your documentation to see that would be asking for trouble. That case, with the woman who was a level three with cat looks and abilities… Did she really get enslaved by a drug lord and… abused?"

Blaine nodded slowly, his lower lip rolling into his mouth as he nibbled it over. "Yeah. Guy was a total creep and crazy… thought that having her brought him luck… Kurt, with your wings, I'd be worried about the religious freaks trying something the same with you."

Kurt drew his wings in even tighter against him, reflecting back on the article. The woman had been raped and used in weird rituals to try and please whatever god it was they believed in. As if he couldn't hate his wings more. "I'll stay."

Blaine nodded, and pointed up the stairs, "Just wake me if you need something. Otherwise, help yourself to anything. Bathroom is upstairs too."

Kurt watched Blaine leave and then turned back to the files, going through them until they began to all blur together. Case after case of meta's showing up dead after disappearing, locals beating up on kids who had displayed abilities once puberty hit, meta's who had been shipped to the island to live out their lives if it was decided that they wouldn't have the ability to escape it, and those that were incarcerated, sometimes with extreme measures being taken to keep them from using their abilities - like being kept in chains or constantly drugged.

The league was starting to look real good by comparison. If only because they didn't have so much documentation on them.

After a couple more hours, Kurt returned to the bed he had awoken in earlier, curling up with his wings pressed to the wall to keep them still. He wasn't used to having them free and was finding them to be a bother, his feet tripping over them even though he only had a few steps to make. He would try to sleep, hope that nightmares of his dad, the fire, and what he had been reading would look him over for now, and let him have a moment of peace. His body did one better than that though, letting him drift off the moment he hit the pillow and sleeping devoid of dreams until that soft, sweet voice beckoned him awake.

"Kurt? Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes snapped open and between recognizing that Blaine was waking him, and that his wings were trying to spread out all over the place regardless of how he had tried to push them against the wall, he acknowledged to himself that he had gotten the dreamlessness he had wanted, for a few hours even.

Wings were crunched tightly back against his spine as he sat up with a little grunt, pulling the sheet over him just as Blaine reached over to brush his fingertips over the skin of Kurt's arm, causing a warm tingle to cascade up Kurt's skin and make the newly grown hairs bristle.

"You look… so much better… wow…."

Kurt remembered how he had last seen his arm, red and bubbled, and now glanced down to see that his skin had returned to its natural color and that the bubbles had virtually disappeared. He hadn't looked at his own face since he had come to Blaine's home, and didn't intend to until he knew he was completely fine again. Healing abilities or not, he didn't want to see any disfigurements on top of everything else that had happened.

"Doesn't it hurt to keep your wings against you all the time?"

Blaine's question prompted Kurt to look from where his eyes had become glued to Blaine's fingers on his skin and glance up at Blaine with eyebrows lifting up in question. "What?"

"Well, I just know if I sit in the same position for too long I get sore. Don't your wings get sore being held against your back so much and so tightly?"

Kurt shrugged up his shoulders, looking back down at himself again. Hair was growing back in, as faint and thin as it had been before on his arms and legs. "I'm used to it."

"They go everywhere when you sleep though… like they're making up for how bundled you keep them during the day…"

Kurt sighed and looked back to the appendages in questions, mentally cursing their unconscious rebelliousness. "I usually belt them up at night so they don't do that."

"When do you let them free then?"

"Never."

He could tell Blaine didn't approve by the way one of those bushy, black caterpillar eyebrows shot up and nothing more was said. Blaine was back in his schoolboy costume, all navy, white and neatly put-together. The curls that had sprung free the night before were all carefully hidden under a layer of gel and the scent of musk that Kurt had gotten used to over the course of the last day had been replaced with something distinctly fruity.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm on my way out. I'll be back as soon as I can after Warbler practice. If the perimeter alarm goes off, check the camera's. If it looks suspicious, pull down the board at the top of the stairs, bolt it, and stay down here."

Kurt nodded in acknowledgement, hoping that wouldn't need to happen. His plan for the day was to go back to sleep, then find a shower and use it, and then see if Blaine had anything he could properly wear.

Of course, the instant Blaine left, Kurt couldn't fall back asleep, mind running laps with so many different thoughts he couldn't focus on any specific one, so he ascended the stairs and looked over the board Blaine had spoken about. True, it was a board, but on the surface side there was a rug glued onto it with a table also securely affixed, currently resting on its side since the basement stairs were opened. When closed, it would look like there was no basement entrance, just a table sitting on a rug. Clever.

The rest of the house was just as anyone else's home might look. Pictures on the wall of what must have been a younger Blaine with an older brother and a pair of parents, all of them always smiling toothily in the photos. A fridge with milk that was too old and a collection of take-out that needed to be tossed in the garbage. The bedroom bed was a disheveled mess of blankets, sheets, and pillows, and the floor was a clutter of dirty laundry. Clearly Blaine wasn't worried about someone bursting into the home while he was away because he had his costume strewn over the counter of his bathroom, openly advertising to anyone who might see it that Nightbird lived here.

Kurt helped himself to a thorough shower in that bathroom, letting the remnants of the soot that had coated his body to slip through the drain as he scrubbed and then scrubbed again until he was sure he was free of the last bit of the fire on him. Then he raided through Blaine's wardrobe without guilt, finding more superhero pajamas than he thought could exist, and finally settling on a tank top and a pair of sweatpants. It was definitely not his usual fare, but Blaine was shorter than him, and Kurt already had to buy clothing that was a couple sizes larger to put the wings into.

He also found a few belts and used them to bind his wings against him. Blaine had asked the question earlier, and Kurt ultimately hadn't given him an answer, but it did ache to hold his wings in like that all the time. Binding them back with belts meant he didn't have to focus on doing it consciously all the time.

The rest of the day was spent tidying up. Not because he wanted to, or he felt like he owed it to Blaine, but because it gave him something to do. The washer and dryer went all day, and Kurt had to wonder if Blaine had ever used it before given how pristine it looked and how many dirty clothes he had piled up. The fridge and freezer were cleaned out and wiped down, resulting in a couple bags of garbage being set by the door for Blaine to take out when he got home. The beds made, with sheets straight out of store packages that Kurt found in a linen closet. Everything was dusted, and everything was put straight. By the time Kurt was done, it was well after when school should have ended and he had to give himself another shower to rid himself of the sweat he had collected over his skin from working all day.

He watched the news then, confused as to how he had gone from being the top story the night before, to not being mentioned at all now. One station was talking about how a moose had been found rummaging in someone's garbage, while another station was going on about some government economic policy. He had hoped for some glimpse of his dad again, but it seemed interest in him had gone away overnight in favor of more trivial things.

"Hey. Sorry I ran late. Brought home groceries -" Blaine yelled out when the door opened. Kurt hadn't heard the perimeter alarm go off, and hoped that it was working and just had some sort of exception to Blaine's car. Standing, he went to meet Blaine and take some of the brown bags filled with real food from him while Blaine looked around the main floor with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Did you clean my house?"

"Yes. It was disgusting." Kurt said simply, emptying the bags onto the counter and then sorting the food into what he decided was the proper place for it.

Blaine followed after him with the remainder of the bags, looking the place up and down as if he didn't recognize it and then letting his gaze fall on Kurt, or rather, Kurt's wings. "You didn't have to do that…"

"I needed something to do." was the curt reply given.

"Well.. thanks… I see you helped yourself to some clothes and… belts…" Blaine's voice dropped for that last word, clearly dismayed at Kurt's choice. Thankfully though, he didn't linger on it. "... That's good. I should have shown you where that all was."

"It's okay. I explored."

"Isabelle and Elliott should be here in an hour, give or take. They're coming from New York to meet you. I would've picked them up but there's no room in the Prius for their luggage so they're just going to rent a van."

"How long are they staying that they'll have that much luggage?" Kurt queried, making the assumption that the two people Blaine was mentioning were the league members Blaine had said were coming in the night before.

To that, Blaine gave a shrug in response. "I don't know. Honestly… most meta's I know discovered their powers at puberty and got in with the league through connections they had. You're kind of unprecedented… being able to hide for so long."

"I'm also famished." Kurt said, turning back to the food he had left on the counter and pointedly changing the subject. "Do you mind if I use your kitchen to cook?"

"No! Not at all. I can help if you want. You don't have to cook. I mean, you are my guest."

Kurt wrinkled up his nose, glancing back at the garbage bags and then to Blaine, who was following his eyes, "I see how you "cook". I'm quite happy to prepare something myself."

Blaine nodded, taking the garbage bags out as Kurt had hoped he would, and then excusing himself for a shower and to change. Kurt had been lonely all day by himself, but there was something about being with someone else in such an awkward situation that made him feel even more lonely. He didn't feel like he could talk openly, and wasn't sure what to say. He ached to have his dad close, the only person he had ever opened up to, and only now was realizing how vital his dad had been not only for helping hide his wings, but also for his sanity.

"Oh god.. that smells like my grandma's cooking…" Blaine said by way of announcing himself as he reentered the kitchen and crouched to peek at the shepard's pie through the oven window. "Oh… I haven't had that in years…"

Kurt smiled with the compliment, or at least what he hoped was a compliment as he washed lettuce for the salad. "I did a lot of the cooking at home. Didn't go out much after all, so I became a reasonably good house-son."

"Your dad was clearly spoiled…" Blaine said as he stood back up. "How about I set the table?"

Kurt glanced back to the table, still on its side so the basement was exposed. "Yeah. Go do that."

Blaine was capable though, bringing down the heavy table and adjusting the rug so it looked like there was nothing else there. Four chairs were brought in from a storage room and set around the table, and then he carefully set out the freshly cleaned dishes that Kurt had painstakingly scrubbed that afternoon from where they had been living in the sink.

"This is great… I haven't had a real sit down dinner in… well… a long time." Blaine grinned, teeth taking over the bottom half of his face much the same as the younger version of himself in the photos hung on the wall as he looked over the kitchen with his hands on his hips as if he had just conquered an empire.

"I imagine balancing a life of being a prep school idol and a costumed crime fighter leaves little time for proper nutrition." Kurt noted playfully.

Blaine made a short, stilted chuckle, and then went about grabbing condiments for the table. A casual bit of banter was struck up between them as Kurt chastised him for wanting to put ketchup on his shepherd's pie and Blaine insisting it was the best way to eat it. It was almost reminiscent of the idle chatter between him and his father when they were about to have dinner, but the difference was that his wings were never out and he had never considered the company particularly attractive before.

A chirruping alarm went off though, reminding Kurt that this wasn't the simple meal his brain had momentarily tricked him into thinking it was, and Blaine checked the cameras, letting Kurt know that it was Isabelle and Elliott on their way into the grounds. That brought Kurt's heart rate back up and he resumed silently placing the hot dishes on the table and waiting for their guests to arrive.

"Hey man! Long time no see!" was the first voice Kurt heard when Blaine went to open the door. There was a smacking sound followed by a few pats as Blaine must have gone in for a hug with the guy, or vice versa, and then a woman's voice echoing the man's with "It's good to see you my sweet Blaine."

Kurt hung out in the kitchen for the greetings, too nervous to make himself directly known, and excusing himself by means of pouring drinks. He couldn't stay hidden forever though, and, after a moment of shared compliments between Blaine and the league members, Kurt found himself being introduced to the pair.

"Elliott Gilbert. Street name Starchild." The tattooed up man said, grabbing Kurt's hand in a firm shake as soon as he laid eyes on him. He was taller than Kurt, almost as tall as the arch of his wings were, and had deeply dark hair and eyes which were looking Kurt up and down - but most up as he oogled the wings. Kurt returned the handshake with a meek smile and then looked over to the other guest, and finding he needed no introduction.

"You're Isabelle Wright! You came up with the Prima Donna line! I love your work!" Her hand was clutched and shaken enthusiastically while Blaine and Elliott shared a look, both with mirrored eyebrow rises. It was in that split second that Kurt realized he wasn't only meeting an idol of his, but someone from the league, which meant...

"Wait. You're a meta? How? How can you lead a public life and..."

Isabelle was gracious with the flattery and Kurt's fawning over her, gesturing to the table. "How about we talk about that over dinner? It looks lovely."

"I'm a level one meta Kurt." Isabelle explained as they sat themselves down and began helping themselves to the meal. "I'm not a threat to anyone, the economy, or myself, which means the government allows me to lead my life almost normally..."

"Then why..." Kurt sighed, trying to consider his words so as not to offend her or the men at the table with them.

"Why bother to get involved with meta-action if I'm apparently not hurt by it?" Isabelle offered, and Kurt gave her a little nod. "Because what the government says they do and what they actually do are two very different things."

"I gave myself up for registration when it was clear the extent of my abilities were limited to changing the color of my hair and eyes. A very nifty power for a fashion oriented teenager, to be sure, but a meta all the same. They told me that as part of the process they'd run some tests, put in a monitoring device, and that, unless I was given a special pass, I couldn't leave the country. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, so I agreed to it. I spent a good week woozy and disoriented in a facility of theirs, which they claimed was part of the testing process, only to discover years later that I had my tubes clamped without consent."

"They can do that?" Kurt balked, looking at the other two guys at the table, who had apparently already heard the story and were nodding sadly.

"Yes. They don't tell you, and it's not a part of their official policy. I found out by accident when I got really sick at this dive in Lima called Breadstix and wound up in the hospital getting my stomach probed. The doctor was clearly new or just that unfamiliar with meta's, because he asked why I had gotten my tubes tied so young."

With the direction of the story, Kurt couldn't even force a smile at the mention of Breadstix. It was too hard to consider that the government would castrate its own people, and for what?

"So I sought out other level one's and with the aid of the league, we did testing. Everyone that's submitted to the government for registration has been neutered. It's not enough to limit and throw out our human rights, but they don't even want us to consider procreating."

"I'm... sorry." Kurt mumbled, unclear on what else could be said.

"It's okay. I never intended to have kids anyhow... but they took that choice away from me. There are meta's who had been trying for years to have kids, only to discover that not only are they infertile, but that their doctors have been covering up the knowledge that they have been clamped or snipped because of government interference. It's not right."

"Anyhow, sob stories aside -" Elliott glanced over at Isabelle, who gave him a good-natured wink in return to his interruption before he looked to Kurt. "We brought out all the gear to do tests on you."

"Ah... after what Isabelle said just now... I don't know if..."

"You'll be completely conscious for all of them Kurt. We just want to know the limits of your abilities so that you can know how to handle them." Isabelle offered quickly, reaching over to set a hand on top of Kurt's. It had been a long time since Kurt had been soothed, or tried to been soothed, by the touch of a woman, and for a moment he flashed back to his mother doing the same thing for him as a child.

"Can we talk.. more... first?" Kurt asked finally, pulling his hand away from Isabelle and her soft, nostalgia inducing skin. He couldn't be prone to making rash decisions because someone brought out the softie in him.

"Of course. What would you like to know?"

Kurt glanced across the table at Elliott after Isabelle posed the question. "What about you? What do you do?"

"By day? Or do you mean abilities?"

Kurt shrugged, catching Blaine watching him out of the corner of his eye as he ate quietly. "Both I guess."

"By day I'm a student at NYU. I teach yoga at a gym part time, and I'm trying to find a band to join. By night I'm a level two wannabe crimefighter named Starchild. I can generate multi-colored energy plamoids at will which I can use to shock, disrupt, or light up an area."

"Multi-colored... plas...moids...?" Kurt repeated, glancing to Blaine for what he hoped would be a more clear explanation.

"Like Jubilee before she went all vampire in X-men!" Blaine offered, which really didn't help Kurt at all, so he turned to Isabelle in hopes that she would provide better clarity.

"Our dear Starchild shoots fireworks out of his hands." Isabelle offered, smirking to herself as she looked at the other two boys at the table and shook her head. "You get used to the technical terminology after awhile Kurt... I personally think they use it to make themselves sound cooler than they really are."

"Fireworks?" Kurt snorted, and then couldn't help but let out a chuckle which he promptly shushed by clamping a hand over his mouth as he glanced guiltily at Elliott whose nose had wrinkled up and lips had clenched together.

"It's right out of the comics Kurt." Blaine noted, apparently to offer credence to how cool Elliott and Blaine thought Elliott's abilities were.

"Uh huh..." Kurt turned to Isabelle then, deciding that if he wanted any straight answers it was going to be best to ask the woman who clearly spoke his own language. "What does the league do?"

"Our goals are primarily to push for our human rights, since, abilities aside, our DNA is otherwise completely congruent with that of "normal" humans and as such we should get the same rights. We also try to demonstrate to normal humans that we can do more good than harm by means of the crime fighting whenever we can, and we offer a help and support group to other meta's. In my case, my abilities don't really allow for fighting crime, so I help more with organizational efforts."

Kurt nodded slowly with everything Isabelle said. In his head it sounded good, and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for her to tell him that by agreeing to be tested that he'd have to commit his life to the league, or maybe even pay some kind of monthly tithe. She was silent though after giving Kurt a response, going back to eating the salad on her plate and looking up at him periodically to see if he had more questions for her.

"How are you funded?"

Isabelle swallowed her mouthful of food and licked over her teeth, as any vanity conscious individual would do to ensure there was no food on them before speaking, before giving reply this time. "You're worried we're some cash cult? No... we have benefactors. Meta's who are so high up the economic food chain that they fund us to ensure they have somewhere to go or someone to help them if they're exposed. Some just give because it ensures they have someone to talk to about their abilities. We also offer counselling in that way... if you're interested."

Kurt quickly shook his head. They might be meta's, but they had no idea about what he had experienced. For starters, they all still looked human at least. They could still hide in plain sight. He'd never be able to do that, especially since he had been publicly exposed.

"So here's the plan." Elliott said, whatever offense he had suffered by Kurt's earlier laugh at his expense forgotten. "We run the tests, spend a few days getting to know one another, and then you can stay with Blaine here and decide what your next steps are."

"What kinds of next steps are we talking about?"

"Well, you could move to one of the bigger cities where we have more of our people. We have our own rather large plot of land in northern Canada where some meta's have moved to that want to stay out of human involvement… but for you…."

"Yeah?"

"I personally think you're best to stay here with Blaine for as long as possible."

"What?"

"Why?" Blaine asked, forkful of food hovering outside his mouth where it had been ready to go in until Elliott started talking.

"Because, dear boys,..." Isabelle broke in. "You two would compliment one another perfectly."


	4. Chapter 4

**I have to take a moment to appreciate the people who make the effort to review for each and every chapter, because with more reviews come more reads, and because of them, I'm getting more people on board with this.**

**So; poutyandweird, 333Abraham333/blainedirtydancing, SmokeyRoxy, VoyageAsia, lilyvandersteen, Charleygyrl, H.T. Elia, frumiousme, Jen, and sabbypandawan - You will all get cookies and pickles if you come to visit me!**

* * *

Blaine didn't understand. The league members had seen them together for all of an hour, so how could they possibly decide that Kurt and Blaine would work well together? No amount of trying to read the colors springing off either of them had helped Blaine understand the comment either. They both exuded confidence, as they always did, and certainty in their comments. Kurt on the other hand was firing off bursts of blue and orange, basically screaming to Blaine how skeptical he was of it all.

And of course, Kurt acted on his curiousity.

"What do you mean we'd work well together?"

Isabelle smiled that sweet, knowing smile once she was a master of, "Blaine's abilities are all mental based, and while he has made the extra effort to train with weapons and learn some martial arts, to be able to use his powers fluently he needs to focus which means he can't always draw on his physical skills. Your skills on the other hand are all physical. You would balance one another out nicely."

"You haven't figured out what all my powers are."

"Can you read minds, cast illusions, or decipher emotions?"

"No."

"Then your powers will be physical based."

"And that's assuming I even want to stay and play superhero with Blaine."

This is where Elliott chimed in. "Of course. Still your choice… ALWAYS your choice…. but Blaine is a level five… he needs protection. You and I, we get found out and we get shipped away or put in prison. Blaine… well we're not sure what exactly they do with level fives - but we do know that no one hears from them ever again."

"I don't need a bodyguard Elliott." Blaine grunted, suddenly not as hungry as he had been a moment earlier.

"You've said that before." Isabelle noted. "We'd still feel better if there was someone else around though."

"I do… like the idea of still being somewhat close to my dad…." Kurt said quietly, fingers overlapping again and again as he drew his hands together in an unconscious fidgeting move. "But I don't have the money to really… help. I don't know how I'd make any either…. I'm not exactly employable."

"You don't have to worry about that."  
"I have lots of money already."

Isabelle and Blaine had spoken at the same time, but the message was the same - Kurt would be taken care of no matter where he went. He could leave with them and the league benefactors would ensure he was okay, or he could stay with Blaine and be taken care of as well. Money was not a mitigating factor.

"Once things cool down with the government and everything, your dad might be able to even come out to visit." Elliott suggested before finishing the last bite of his meal.

"Would you be okay with it?" Kurt asked as he looked to Blaine with those deep pools of blue.

It was the first time any of them had asked Blaine if he was okay with the idea. He was used to being alone, not having to deal with anyone else's schedule, not having to report to anyone. He didn't have to share his stuff or clean up after himself. How many teenagers were able to come and go as they pleased and do what they wanted? Blaine had it good.

But then… Kurt did have those wings…

And those eyes…

"Yeah. Yeah. It'd be fine. We'd need to set you up with your own room and all… but it's okay."

Kurt turned back to Isabelle. "Can I think about it for a couple days?"

"Of course."

The slight kick of Elliott's foot against his own and then the smirk he got when he looked at Elliott in question told Blaine that he was as transparent as glass. Elliott didn't need to be able to read emotions to know that Blaine was smitten with Kurt, and Isabelle and Kurt might not say anything about it, but Elliott was going to bug him as soon as they were alone.

For someone whose power was deciphering people's emotions, Blaine was never very good at hiding his own, and he knew that he was in trouble now. If Kurt decided to stay, Blaine would be living with someone he was already crushing on and had no idea of how to handle that.

After that, the conversation was diverted to Isabelle complimenting Kurt's cooking and Elliott asking Kurt about where he was in school. Blaine had done his very best to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen when everyone was done so Kurt could go with Isabelle and Elliott to the living room and get to know them better. The house being cleaned was definitely a wake up call for Blaine, who, up until that point, had never entertained guests. He should have thought to clean it up the instant he got the message that the league was sending people. Hell, he should have cleaned it up while Kurt had been sleeping during the day yesterday. He grew up in a family where having guests meant everything was spotless in advance, so when had he lost that knowledge that came with being a good host?

Kurt did look better and not just healed up either. It was as if the fire hadn't happened at all. When Blaine had come down the stairs that morning to wake Kurt to let him know he was leaving, he had been stunned by the change. Before him was no longer a wounded man, but an angel - complete with the wings. It had taken Blaine back to sectionals, and that moment when he couldn't keep his eyes off of Kurt when he had come on stage. Now he was having a hard time not looking at Kurt every time they were in the same room.

His mother would have admonished him for staring. That was DEFINITELY not part of being a proper host.

By the time Blaine finished with the kitchen cleanup and joined the rest of the group, Isabelle had clearly worked her magic on Kurt because he had an arm extended and a blood pressure monitor on his arm. Isabelle and Elliott had brought a veritable portable collection of hospital equipment to do tests on Kurt, and, as was procedure, they had started on the most mundane of those tests. Elliott was managing the device while Isabelle wrote notes and made sure the clipboard was visible to Kurt who kept glancing over at it. The spikes of yellow around Kurt told Blaine clearly enough that Kurt was nervous, but the wavering bits of blue also related that he was calm enough to be allowing it to happen.

"So, Elliott, Isabelle… Kurt wants to let his dad know he's okay…" Blaine noted as he sat himself down on one of the couches in the living room where they had settled.

"Oh!" Isabelle perked up and looked to Elliott, "We should do the Jehovah's witnesses routine!"

Elliott laughed and nodded, earning a confused look from Kurt who turned to Isabelle for clarification. Blaine was going to have to work on not being such a fanboy around Kurt if he expected Kurt to look at him like that.

"So Elliott and I pretend to be door-to-door missionary types, spreading the good word and all that. We don't actually ring the bells on any of the street, except for the person we're trying to pass a message onto. We just stand at each of the doors and make it look like we rang the bell and no one answered so if there's an official watching the area, we look like legitimate god-pushers. When we get to your home, we do the act, but give your dad a brochure that includes a message from you inside and Elliott makes a little sparkle in his hand so that your dad clues in that we're no ordinary missionaries. Then we go back a couple days later, do the same routine, and your dad can give us a message back the same way - though by pushing the brochure back at us like he didn't want it the last time. The instructions are in the brochure. It's so much fun to get dressed up and play the part… oh… you're not a Jehovah's witness are you?"

Kurt shook his head with a cute little grin on his face which Blaine committed to his memory. "No. Dad believes in some greater power but nothing specific. Never really went to church growing up. I don't believe in anything… at least not in that way."

"Ironic considering you could be the mascot for a great numbers of churches." Elliott noted with a nod towards Kurt's wings.

Kurt's sweet smile turned sour as the focus went to his wings, and Blaine observed how every time he or someone else had mentioned Kurt's wings that there had been a shudder of black and green around Kurt. Self-hated. How on earth could he hate those things though? They were.. beautiful.

"So what do the different numbers mean? I never could figure out the difference between two, three, and four…" Kurt asked, adeptly changing the topic of conversation as he always did to avoid talking about the feathery appendages on his back.

"Well, level one's, like myself, can cause no damage to others or themselves, and don't have any abilities that could affect the economy or the security of anyone. I can change my hair color and eye color, but I'm still recognizable as me. Whereas someone who could completely shapeshift into a total new form has the ability to compromise the security of a company by acting as a spy for example." Isabelle explained, nodding over to Elliott as she finished recording the numbers and he, in turn, took the monitor off Kurt's arm. "Blood pressure is fantastic. Perfect in fact."

"I watch my diet carefully." Kurt said simply, eyeing up the stethoscope Elliott was now holding up to his chest.

"A level two meta has to work very hard to cause damage to anyhow. Elliott can shoot fireworks -"

"Plasmoids." Elliott insisted as he listened to the beat of Kurt's heart.

"Whatever. He can shoot "plasmoids", but they don't hurt anyone save for some momentary blindness if he gets them near the eyes. Nothing lasting. But because it can cause a disruption and panic, he's given a level two instead of a one."

"And because of that, I would get shipped off to Tristan da Cunha, "Meta Island", and while it's apparently quite beautiful there, I wouldn't be able to see my family or friends anymore. New York might not be tropical, but it is home, and I choose to be there."

Isabelle nodded and continued after Elliott gave her a thumbs up as he took the stethoscope off and proceeded to grab a tongue depressor and little flashlight so he could check inside Kurt's mouth. "Level three's and four's are capable of more damage and interference, and are harder to contain. These are the levels you'd find your fire throwers and shape shifters, and probably yourself. The difference between a three and a four is if what they can do can disrupt the economy as well. There's a guy who can manipulate the earth, throw dirt with his mind, but he also has the ability to made dirt press until he creates diamonds from the pressure. Because he can make his own diamonds, he can screw with the economy. That's enough for our government to bump him up a level."

Kurt was silent as a result of the depressor holding down his tongue, Elliott looking into his mouth and shaking his head. "Isabelle, come see this."

"-at?" Kurt asked with his open mouth, eyes darting down his face as if he could see into his own mouth by doing so. For the moment, Blaine stayed back. He didn't want to crowd Kurt, especially if they had discovered something beyond his wings.

"You don't have a soft palate…" Isabelle noted, grabbing the clipboard to write down notes as she examined the inside of Kurt's mouth. "Interesting."

When the depressor was removed, Kurt looked between them all quickly, "Is that a good thing? A bad thing? I don't know what that means…."

"I don't know Kurt. I haven't seen it before and I'm not a doctor. I just document the stuff and then we'll look it up to see if it has any meaning." Isabelle offered, holding the clipboard out to Kurt again so he could read what she wrote. She was good like that, making sure everything was transparent so new meta's were more at ease. No wonder the league usually sent her to meet new meta's.

"Birds don't have the soft palate…" Blaine offered quietly, remembering a biology lesson a few years prior. "Your wings might be more avian and less angelical if that's the case…"

It was the wrong thing to say, and Blaine knew it the instant it had come out of his mouth because the shimmer of black and green bubbled up over Kurt again as he drew his wings in tightly despite the fact they were already bound by the belts. Shots of red also fluttered over Kurt as he looked back to Isabelle and spoke once more.

"And… level fives?"

"Level five's, like Blaine, have some kind of ability that deals with mental invasion. They go beyond the physical and into the mental. Mindreaders, those that can transmit thoughts, precognition, creating illusions… all of these have something to do with breaking through the physical barrier of humans and strips humans of the one thing they have always held dear - the ability to think whatever they want without fear of anyone else knowing. The ability to have secrets. Level fives are secret thieves. The government hates that anyone could take their secrets away from them.."

"I can't imagine why." Kurt drawled, the sarcasm dripping off him as he rolled his eyes and held an arm out without question as Elliott opened up a briefcase containing vials and hypodermic needles. "I'm not going to look when you do this. I hate needles."

"I'm surprised you didn't even question us on it." Isabelle said, taking Kurt's other hand and squeezing it gently. She couldn't see it, but Blaine could. The instant she touched Kurt a purple spike erupted over him. Kurt's exterior response didn't change with the touch, but Blaine could see that it affected him, though thankfully, in a good way.

"I considered it.. " Kurt winced then as Elliott poked the needle into his skin and began drawing blood for lab analysis. "... but I'm at the point where I either don't care or just don't see the point in fighting."

"You still have the right to refuse Kurt. We're not the government. You always have a choice with us."

Kurt exhaled shakily as Elliott took a few vials of blood and then put it into a portable shaker to prepare it for testing. Then the needle was removed and covered with a cotton ball which Elliott expertly stuck down with medical tape. "All done with that one."

"I appreciate it." Kurt said in response to both Isabelle and Elliott before looking back to Isabelle specifically. "... and I guess I'm just the littlest bit curious about what I am too, and am willing to let you poke at me a bit to help me figure that out."

The tests continued after that, with even more stunning results. An x-ray showed that Kurt's bones were hollowing out, and when Isabelle and Elliott examined his hands and feets, he explained that the thick nails he had (which Blaine hadn't noticed until he pointed it out) grew into talons if left unclipped. Kurt had more muscle mass than his lithe frame suggested as well, and virtually no body fat despite arguing that he didn't exercise enough for that to be true. More testing revealed that Kurt had much larger than average lungs, much better eyesight than regular humans, and a blood type that wasn't consistent with any normal human type.

"So… better not go in for a transfusion huh?" Kurt had joked when Elliott had told him that, as if everything else that had come before wasn't even worth mentioning. It was his way of coping with the results. He had no idea he was so different. Kurt had only thought his wings had set him apart, when really, they were just the tip of the iceberg.

By the time they had gotten through all of the preliminary tests, it was close to midnight and everyone was exhausted. Blaine let Isabelle have his own bed and put Elliott on the couch before going downstairs to ensure Kurt was okay with sleeping on the mattress down there again.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Kurt asked, sitting on the edge of the bed after Blaine had approached him to ask if he needed any extra pillows or blankets.

Blaine shook his head, "I have an air mattress I'll pump up."

"And you'll be okay with that?"

Blaine shrugged. In truth, he wanted his own bed, and his house, back. He liked having others over, liked being free to be open about his abilities around others, but with as tired as he was then, all he wanted was a good night's sleep and the freedom to sleep in the next morning. He knew he wasn't going to get it though.

"Why are you always staring at… the things on my back?"

The question perked Blaine out of the fatigued funk he was in, glancing away from the feathers that even he hadn't been cognizant of looking at and to Kurt's eyes which glared at him accusingly. Kurt couldn't even say wings, and despite feeling judged for ogling them, Blaine had to wonder just how deep Kurt's hatred of those alluring things had to go.

"I think your wings are beautiful."

Kurt snorted and looked away, wings tensing along with the rest of him. "I'm not one of your superheroes. These 'things' aren't beautiful. Because of them I can't ever fit into society. I don't get to go home to my dad. I don't get to go to college. I don't get to walk down the street hand in hand with someone I love. I will never get to be the person I feel like I am inside because these things will always make people treat me different."

Blaine rolled his lower lip into his mouth, nibbling it gently as he considered Kurt's words and the red and orange radiating off of him as he ranted in anger. "You're right…"

Kurt looked back at him.

"But that doesn't make them any less beautiful. Maybe it's cliched, but I've always believed that what makes us different is what makes us special."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Good night Kurt. Sleep well."

It took longer than he anticipated to pump up the old airbed, and by the time he was done Blaine collapsed and fell right to sleep, because no matter how much he wanted to think about wings, his mind was done for the day.

The next morning, Blaine discovered he was the last one to wake, and it was to the smell of pancakes and coffee. He ate like a starving man, going for seconds and thirds when he got upstairs, and then thanking Kurt profusely for cooking once again. Kurt wouldn't meet his eyes though, still radiating irritation from the night before, and Blaine resumed ogling Kurt's wings in the absence of being able to look into his eyes. Really, all of Kurt was nice to look at, but the wings gave Blaine the most cause to wonder and daydream.

Once everyone had gotten themselves ready for the day, a trek to the barn on Blaine's property was taken. It was a place Blaine had set up with weapons and sparring dummies to practice with, but it also was big and wide enough for Kurt to spread his wings out to full span.

And when he did they damn near took up the entire barn. It was a sight to behold, a challenge to all the painters of the renaissance who tried to depict angels, and a testament to all that Blaine felt was right in the world. How Kurt could keep this things so tidily against his back, but be able to fill a barn with them defied Blaine's knowledge of capacity. So many feathers… Kurt could make a few down quilts if he ever molted.

"We HAVE to see if you can fly with these things…" Elliott uttered as he and Isabelle recorded the measurements.

"I don't see how. I may have some bird qualities but that still doesn't mean I'm a bird." Kurt insisted with a sigh as he pulled his wings back in against him once they were done.

"You could try though… start small. See if you could glide off the top of the slide. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh.. I could break my neck?" Kurt supplied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes simultaneously as Isabelle just chuckled.

"Try?" Elliott pleaded, batting his eyelashes and offering Kurt the most pathetic puppy dog eyes Blaine had ever seen in his life.

Kurt rolled his eyes, as he had done so many times already in the past couple days since Blaine had saved him, and climbed up the ladder to the loft of the barn. "I really don't know why I'm doing this…"

Elliott chuckled and watched in keen delight while Isabelle suggested Kurt try to glide near where there was a few mats Blaine had spread out for tumbling practice. Blaine, meanwhile, followed Kurt up to the loft to try and scope out the best way to test out those wings.

"You could go from the end… lots of potential to glide and the mats are right below if you fall…" Blaine pointed out to Kurt, whose anxiety levels were rising as he followed Blaine's finger.

Regardless of how Kurt felt though, he was brave, and willing to try something new, and so Blaine watched as he stepped to the edge of the loft, looking down below at Elliott and Isabelle and gulping as he tried to get himself into the mindset to let himself fall. That's where he froze, hovering between going and not. If he could fly, this would change what he knew about himself. He would be more than just a man with wings that interefered with his ability to do what he wanted. He would be a man with wings who had the ability to do what others couldn't.

If he couldn't fly though, Kurt would still be stuck in a body he hated.

Blaine glanced down at Isabelle, who smiled softly back at up him. Neither her nor Elliott pushed Kurt at this point. He had to make the choice now, and to bide their time, Isabelle pretended to look at the notes she had made and Elliott made rainbow sparks in his hand.

Kurt hovered where he was, every now and then shuffling a toe forward and then drawing it back as he mentally debated with himself. Blaine watched. He figured that if Kurt couldn't fly then he could put his gymnastics skills to use for once and do some parkour style jumping down to catch Kurt.

Except it ended up being Kurt who caught Blaine.

In his boredom, Elliott's personal fireworks show had increased, and one of the plasmoids he projected bounced off the back of Isabelle's metallic clipboard and up towards Blaine where it flashed in front of his eyes. He hadn't been expecting anything, and had been so focused on plotting out how he could jump down that it had taken him completely by surprise, making him jerk in surprise. The small movement he made though had large consequences as a result of his being right at the edge of the floor, and before he even really registered that he had been shocked, he was falling backwards.

That's when Kurt had acted, and as soon as Blaine took in a breath to try and brace himself for hitting the ground hard, there was a whoosh of air around him and arms catching under his back and legs. For a split second he was airborne, eyes going wide as they regained vision and settled on Kurt who seemed just as surprised as he was at this development, and then Kurt went from floating horizontally to standing upright as he landed gracefully and let Blaine down.

"That was fucking epic!" Hooted Elliott, clearly not concerned about how he had caused the whole ruckus.

Kurt tucked his wings back once more and blushed softly as he glanced to Isabelle for her reaction, a smile and a nod of approval. He joined her and together they looked over the clipboard as Isabelle spoke quietly to Kurt, whose colors were jumping all over the place from the excitement.

"You're welcome." Elliott murmured over to Blaine.

Brow furrowed, Blaine looked back at Elliott, whose cocky smirk and highlights of yellow and green gave him away.

"You did that on purpose!" Blaine hiss-whispered.

Elliott just continued to grin, so satisfied with himself, as Blaine shook his head.

Once they had decided they were done in the barn, the group returned to the house where Kurt wrote a letter out to his father while Elliott and Isabelle got into suits for their Jehovah's Witness scam.

"Got that letter ready for your dad?"

Kurt nodded, handing it over to Isabelle who promptly put it into an envelope.

"You're not going to read it?"

Isabelle shook her head, looking back to Kurt sadly, "I keep telling you… we're not the government. We're not here to filter what you can and can't do or say… we just want to help. The league… all of us… we know how difficult things can be and we just want to make it easier for you."

Kurt nodded at that, Blaine watching the slight spike of purple that hovered over him as he watched Isabelle leave and Elliott go along with her.

"You trust her."

It wasn't a question, just a plain statement as Blaine watched Kurt for that moment, after which Kurt looked to Blaine for the first time that day.

"I can see why the government would be annoyed by mind readers…."

"I'm not a mind reader…"

"You don't leave me with secrets though." Kurt huffed, moving to sit himself at a couch with his wings spilling out to each side.

"I'm… sorry?"

To that, Kurt shook his head, looking down at the coffee table blankly. "Not your fault any more than these things are mine I guess. I just…"

"... wish you weren't so pellucid to me?" Blaine sighed and looked off through the window at the car driving off his property. "Yeah. I get that a lot."

"Is it why your family doesn't live with you?"

Blaine just nodded once and Kurt, thankfully, asked no more about it, though that only left room for silence to fill the gap. How could they be expected to coexist with one another when they couldn't even have a decent conversation?

"They feel better… y'know…" Kurt murmured as he stared off into the window after Blaine had gone to collect his newest comic issues and had just begun to read them.

"What does?"

Kurt ruffled his wings up a couple times in response, speaking into his knuckles as he propped his head up on his fist while he continued to look out. "I've always bound them so tight… They were always sore and probably healing themselves constantly because of how I treated them. I've had them out more in the past couple days than I have since they appeared though, and they actually feel lighter when I let them loose than when I bind them back."

"Can I touch them?"

There was a long sigh, and Blaine was sure Kurt was about to tell Blaine exactly what he could go touch in the most explicit of terms, but then blue and green flooded over the red and yellow, and Kurt extended the closer wing towards where Blaine was sitting.

"Fine."

Blaine hesitated for a moment, holding his hand out just a hair's breadth away from actually letting his fingers graze the wing presented before him, wondering if this was a joke or a test, or something else to make him look like a fool. A quick glance up at Kurt's face though, and the calm that surrounded him confirmed to Blaine though that he was truly being allowed to touch, and so he let his fingers down and held his breath on contact.

Nothing had ever felt so soft, so silken, so absolutely luxurious as the feathers under his skin. Velvet with cream were the only things that Blaine could think to compare it too. He let his eyes drop to where he was being allowed to touch and ran his fingers up and down a few times before releasing his shaken breath.

"... wow."

With each stroke, he got a little more brave, increasing the duration of the movement and putting the full width of his hand on Kurt's wing, specifically the thick, muscled arm of the wing. How Kurt wasn't constantly touching his own wings was beyond Blaine then, because if he had something so sweetly soft to touch all the time, he would never come out of his room.

At the same time, Kurt had gone eerily silent, though his wing had become quite pliant under Blaine's touch. It was when Kurt released a shuddering breath, not unlike the ones Blaine was making in his awe, that Blaine looked away from the wing and to the other man whose cheeks had gone red and whose aura had shifted to purple's, pink's, and blue's.

"Oh…" Blaine's hand pulled away, his own cheeks reddening in blush. "I didn't know… I…. sorry."

Kurt took another ragged breath before his wing whipped back and away from Blaine to join its mate on Kurt's back. Then the pinks and purples fell closer to his frame and were slowly replaced with yellow's and brown's. "No… no… I just.. I didn't know that's how they'd… or that they'd make me…."

"No one's ever touched them before?" Blaine balked.

"Not even myself… not like that anyhow." Kurt supplied, keeping his eyes away from Blaine's as he spoke.

"Might be something to tell Isabelle and Elliott…"

"Yeah, yeah… anyhow… I'm going to make supper." Kurt said abruptly, rushing off to escape. He didn't look back at Blaine once, so embarrassed by the automatic reaction he'd had to having his wings petted.

Blaine guessed he should feel embarrassed too, but, for whatever reason, he wasn't. All he wanted now was to touch those wings even more, but all he could do was return to his comic books and wish things in real life went as easily as they seemed to for his idols.

When their colleagues returned, Blaine was not surprised when Isabelle had shopping bags in hand.

"Oh Kurt! I had a total creativity surge when we were driving past the fabric store in Lima and I had to stop!"

Kurt peered in the bags, eyebrows both shooting straight up as he looked at Isabelle as if she had lost her mind. "These bags are full of spandex…."

"Well if you can fly you need to be aerodynamic… "

Kurt looked like he was going to be sick as he looked back and forth between Isabelle, so eager and hopeful, and what was in the bag. Blaine just chuckled before sharing a knowing glance with Elliott. If there was one guilty pleasure Isabelle had, it was designing hero costumes - though she'd never in a million years admit to it.

"This is… this is…. ah…" Kurt ended up shaking it off and looking towards Elliott for a change, "Was my dad there? Was he okay? Did he look upset?"

"Yes. He definitely picked up on the message, though he looked like he hasn't slept much lately."

"Poor guy… can you blame him?" Isabelle added with a small shake of her head. "There's at least five pictures of you alone just in the entryway of your home. Clearly your dad thinks the world of you."

A sad smile was Kurt's response, though hope was gushing over him at the news that his dad got his message. Somehow Blaine didn't think that Kurt's father would ever forsake his son no matter what powers or abilities he had, and that made Blaine feel both happy and sad all at once. Kurt was lucky in his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for the continued kind words, messages, and reviews. I really attribute my motivation to all of your encouragement and interest.**

**H.T. Elia - I would love it if you drew winged Kurt. Hell, I'd love it if anyone drew any of this.**

**For those reading on , there is coverart to this fic available on my tumblr, and also on the S &C and A03 (Chap 1) versions. I have it as a cover for this story too on , but it's so small that it's hard to make out. Kudos to i-wanna-be-a-klaine-ship-ranger for her amazing art skills on that. She designed Kurt's costume and I gave her some details on what Blaine's costume (not Nightbird one, but the one that'll come later) would be.**

**As always, if there's something you'd like addressed or clarified, or even have an idea for the fic, drop me a line and I'll do my best to include it.**

**I'm a teacher and school begins tomorrow (though I've been in meetings for the past week). September is crazy and while I want to say that I'll get two chapters up a week, I make no promises because I, of all people, know that life happens when you're making other plans (Thanks John Lennon!). I'm also working part time on my master's degree, being a mom, a wife, and am dealing with my garden harvest (pickling, jellies, preserves, etc.).**

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Kurt stared out the window, much as he had a couple days earlier, waiting in earnest for the return of Isabelle and Elliott from their second trip to his house. He was eager to find out what his dad had to say, if he was okay, and what he thought about Kurt staying at the acreridge or moving to the city.

He also longed to hear his dad's steady voice, to feel his embrace as he hugged him tightly, the feeling that no matter what happened - that everything would be alright.

But Kurt knew that wouldn't be returning with Isabelle and Elliott. Surprisingly, to Kurt at least, with everything that had happened he was managing fairly well. He had always envisioned he would have had a complete breakdown or shut himself off mentally if he was ever found out, but given how things had turned out better than he had ever imagined, he really couldn't complain - even if it was a lot to take in at once. Between being saved by a cute boy who was secretly a superhero nerd, discovering how much the public didn't know about metahumans, finding out there was so much more to him than the things on his back, and stumbling upon the knowledge that they were sensitive in the most blush inducing way possible - Kurt was proud of himself for being able to hold his own in conversation and keep his cool.

Blaine was at school on this particular day, so it was just Kurt in the house, waiting and idly stroking his own wings in the privacy of the living room. Since he had let Blaine touch his wings, and discovered that the meatier part of them were essentially erogenous zones, Kurt had been touching them when in private, curious as to how something so far removed from the usual male zone of sexuality could stimulate him like that.

It also just felt damned good to do.

Isabelle and Elliott had submitted their findings to faceless league members over messaging, and the response was what they had expected after they had done their tests and explained the level system. He was a level three, considered more difficult to control because of his ability to fly, his enhanced vision, his healing factor, and his increased stamina due to his lung capacity and muscle mass. If he was caught by the authorities they might ship him to meta island so he wasn't a threat to any "normal" humans, but more than likely they'd imprison him in a government facility because there was the possibility that he could fly off the island. The governments' choices that way were all based off assumptions, and their major assumption was that if someone had abilities, they would use them to hurt others even though Kurt wouldn't hurt a fly. Blaine, Isabelle, and Elliott had also demonstrated that meta's were far from dangerous, yet a few incorrigible meta's in the past had cemented the fate for the rest of them. There was a boy who could make fire and used it to destroy the homes of those that bullied him in school. A girl who could make skin melt on touch and had accidentally killed several people before she understood her ability. Then there was the earth shaker, a man who tried to commit a genocide against a group of people that he saw as evil and split the earth apart under their settlements, sending many to their immediate death.

Metahumans had been judged based on the actions of a few, and now his freedom would always be in question because of those ones. It was hardly fair, but it was something done throughout the world for various things. How many teachers had banned gum chewing in their class because of one student that would stick it under desks after all?

Kurt had promised Isabelle he would work on the costume in her absence, but was finding it difficult to dredge up the motivation to work on the clingy thing without her there to motivate him. He didn't even know if he wanted to save the world with Blaine, and was even less convinced with Isabelle's choice in fabric, which made him seriously question her role as a fashion icon. It was tighter than anything he'd ever worn publically, was composed of a bold red, white, and gold color scheme, and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He had tried it on the day before and any doubts he might have had about Blaine and Elliott playing for his team had been alleviated when he caught them both staring at him and damn near salivating. Kurt now knew exactly what women were complaining about when they said they were being objectified.

He had to admit though, it was a nice change to be looked at that way instead of looked over back at school.

Finally deciding that he couldn't take the waiting anymore, Kurt stood up and slipped on a pair of shoes Isabelle had bought for him yesterday (along with a new wardrobe since he couldn't go on wearing Blaine's clothing) and ducked out of the house, making his way to the barn.

Every day now since he had discovered that he could, Kurt had gone to relive the thrill of flying. He would climb up to the second level of the barn and jump, gliding for a few short, but brilliant, moments before landing with his wings stretched out. Each time he did it he became more assured, and was able to drift for a longer time.

Today he was going to go higher.

Inside the second level of the barn there was a ladder that led up through a door on the barn roof. Once Kurt had made his way up there he stood, spread out his wings, and looked down. It was a much higher height, with so much more room for trying out things like turning and seeing how long he could stay afloat, but it also didn't have hay or mats below hims for safety.

He jumped anyhow.

An hour later, that's where the rest of the group found him, on his upteemth jump in which he was trying to figure out how to catch the air currents which seemed to keep him aloft for longer and, in some cases, even allow him to arch back up into the sky. It was an extremely addictive feeling - the adrenaline racing through him, the air whipping back his hair, and the chill that ran down his spine each time he did it. Kurt wasn't surprised he had lost track of time.

"You should try flapping your wings to see if you can take flight from the ground." Elliott suggested when Kurt came in for a landing by them, casually trying to land with more grace given that he was now being watched.

"We should work some ear covers into your costume. The tips of your ears are completely red sweetpea!" Isabelle noted, reaching up to touch Kurt's affected ears and try to give her warmth to him.

"Wow." was the contribution of the usually over chatty Blaine, still in his prep school outfit with his hands shoved into his pockets at he looked over Kurt in a way that Kurt was admittedly becoming used to though it initially irked him.

"Yeah man. Kurt's here the real bird. You're just some knockoff." Elliott joked with a smack to Blaine's back; the smaller boy forced to make a surprised cough.

"Nightbird is an homage to Nightwing -" Blaine began.

"It's a stupid name for you." Elliott interrupted, garnering a nod from Isabelle and a few nods from Kurt.

"Well what else am I supposed to call myself?"

Kurt grinned, drawing his wings in against his back. "How about… Mentalist?"

"That's a TV show."

Elliott bounced on his toes, "Oh! Oh! Mr. Emotion!"

"You're joking right?"

"You'll come up with something sweetie." Isabelle said with a smile, reaching over with one hand removed from the tops of Kurt's ears to pat Blaine gently on the shoulder. "It's hardly the most important thing in life."

"Says the woman who doesn't even know the difference between the Justice League and The Avengers."

They laughed, returning to the house to share a meal. In a matter of days the amount of familiarity Kurt had developed with these people was amazing. He hadn't realized how much he had needed other people like him around, people to share with, people he didn't have to hide from.

Though the person he still wanted the most wasn't there.

"Did my dad reply?"

Isabelle nodded, fetching her purse as soon as they entered the house and handing a letter wrapped in a Jehovah's Witness brochure to Kurt.

For a minute Kurt didn't open it. He didn't know when the next time he'd be able to hear from his dad would be, and wanted to savour the anticipation of opening the letter. He could only wait for that minute though, since the past few days had been the longest he had ever been without his dad before and needed to hear his voice, if even in his own head.

_Dear Kurt,_

_You can't imagine how good it is to know that not only are you alright, but that you're in, what I hope, is good company. I have to say it stinks that this is the only way that we can communicate, but given what I hear on TV and in the news, it's probably better than a lot of parents get when their kids are discovered._

_The house is so empty without you. Carole showed up as soon as she heard the news and I'm not too tough to admit that I cried into her shirt for a long time before I could even talked. She understood why I had to end things before, and despite that she's been coming by every day to help me out with cooking and making sure things like cleaning get done. Now that she knows, I hope it's okay with you if I ask her out again. A man get's mighty lonely after all._

_Finn's been helping out too, mostly at the garage since I've been spending a lot of time fending off the damned reporters and investigators. He has questions, but, you know, he's pretty good about it. I have to wonder if we missed out by not telling Carole and Finn because they've been completely okay with it all, even if Finn did ask if your mom was a pigeon at one point. The guy means well though._

_On that note, both of them are grateful to you for getting Finn out of that fire. I'm damn proud of you too for that kiddo. You had everything to lose and those videos I saw showed that you didn't even hesitate. You've grown into a good man son, and should never doubt that you are._

_I'm having a tough time writing this. There's so much to say yet so much that can't be expressed on a page. I was never good at this stuff. It was a good thing your mom never expected love letters otherwise you might have never come along. Just know that your old man loves you, will do whatever it takes to help you if you need it, and that I'm always, ALWAYS proud of you kid. You've always been the light of my life and even if you can't be around, and no matter if that means a farm somewhere or a big city or even across the world, just know that you've always got a place here to be home._

_Now I'm going to end this before I lose the whole damn thing because I tear up all over it._

_Love you kiddo,_

_Dad_

With the letter was a picture taken years ago, when his mother had still been alive. His dad and his mom each had a hand on a much smaller, much happier version of himself as they all looked at the camera. Kurt pressed the letter to his chest, exhaling slowly and realizing then that everyone had been quietly watching his reaction, though Blaine's face was less stressed than Isabelle's or Elliott's, probably because he could tell exactly how the letter had gone from watching Kurt's colors… or however it worked for him.

He still kept in his own tears regardless.

"Thank you guys… for doing this for me." Kurt uttered to them, forcing up a small smile.

"Oh sweetpea!' Isabelle cooed, stepping over and embracing Kurt in just the kind of hug he needed in order to remember that he had to breath. The hug wasn't as firm or as comforting as his father's, but it was a decent substitute for the time being as Kurt reminded himself that it was just a letter, as if that could settle his heart.

"It's okay man." Elliott offered, patting Kurt on the back. "The family thing. That's the hardest part of all this I think. My folks are always worrying I'll be outed, and I always worry about what they think of me, even though they say they don't care and I'm still their kid no matter what. It's a normal kind of stress for us."

Kurt nodded, hugging Isabelle back for a few more seconds before pulling away and glancing back down at the note. "If it's okay… I'm going to go and reread this downstairs… by myself."

There was no argument, and Kurt let himself glance over the words again and again, picture set beside the paper, as he laid in the bed, eventually letting the tears fall out of him silently. He was relieved that his dad had someone there to take care of him, but sad that it wasn't him. He was choked up by his dad emphasizing just how proud he was of Kurt, but wondering if he'd still be there with him had he not gone into the flames. He was jealous of Finn, who would get to play the son in his place no matter how much his dad might argue that Kurt could never be replaced. All of it created a jumble in his heart and his head and eventually, after his tear sockets dried up, Kurt drifted off, emotionally exhausted.

The next day was difficult. Or it should have been, Kurt imagined, for anyone else. The choice had to be made. Stay or go. He had already decided what he had wanted, now he just needed to make sure it was alright with the people it would affect.

With Isabelle and Elliott going to town to take advantage of what they called "Out-of-New-York Sales like pricing" before leaving, Kurt was alone with Blaine who was thoroughly engrossed in a massive history textbook, highlighting every second line as he studied for a test.

"You must get good marks."

Blaine looked up from the book, head tipping slightly off center as he looked at Kurt in that way that said he was looking more around Kurt than right at him. "I do alright."

"I feel like I should be more upset by my impromptu dropping out of school… but I'm actually okay with the idea…"

"Did you struggle in school?"

Kurt shook his head, eyes drifting to the stack of texts that Blaine had at his desk. "No. I did really well actually… I just… The teachers always talk about preparing you for real life and I always wondered, if this isn't real life right now, then what is it? I don't know that all the calculus in the world could help me right now."

"Hey now! Don't be underestimating the value of calculus!" Blaine tutted playfully, pointing his highlighter towards Kurt with a grin.

Kurt just returned the smile, though keep his teeth hidden with his lips whereas Blaine's grins were all tooth. "What do you want to do when you're done school?"

Blaine made a little shrug upwards of his shoulders, and it always piqued Kurt's curiosity as to how that motion felt without having wings on their backs. Was it lighter? Easier? Harder? Were the same muscles used?

"I really don't know. I'm just doing the best I can to keep my options open. At school I say I'm deciding between law and medicine just to fit in with all the other guys there, but I honestly don't feel drawn towards either of those things."

"You'd probably do well as a counsellor." Kurt mused.

Blaine smiled, though this one was tight lipped and he shot a glance down and away before looking back up and speaking again. "Maybe… but even though I can see what people are feeling, I don't always know what to do with that information."

"Does anyone ever ask how you're feeling?"

The question seemed to catch Blaine off guard, and he looked with big, round, caramel eyes at Kurt straight on to see if he was serious before uttering, "Not really.. not in a long time anyhow."

"Well then, how are you?"

"Do you really want to know or are you just playing friendly?"

To that, Kurt let an eyebrow shoot up. "Look around me Blaine. You're supposed to be able to see if I'm lying or not."

Another meek smile followed by drifting eyes which settled back on Kurt after a moment. "I'm nervous I guess."

"Why?"

"Well… I don't know what you want to do… and while I like you… I mean… you as a person, a friend, a -" He cleared his throat, cheeks burning at his verbal stumbling while Kurt just smirked and stayed silent until he had the sense to continue. "It's been a long time since I've lived with anyone else."

"You don't have to harbor me Blaine. You should have a choice in that too."

"But I do want you to stay too! God…" Blaine shook his head. "I just… it's a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. I'm sure I'll feel better when I know what you're going to do so that I can deal with it… y'know?"

"I'd like to stay."

Blaine must have not believed Kurt because his eyes darted up to check the edges of Kurt's body before settling back on his face. "Really?"

"Yeah… I mean… it's close to my dad. It's off the beaten path and there's lots of space so I can move freely without worrying about being seen. Even though I always dreamed of the big cities when I was a kid, I think it would be a hard transition for me since I've been pretty private the past few years… and despite the weird obsession with comic books, I feel alright around you."

"You do?"

Kurt shrugged, his wings moving with his shoulders so they rustled. He still wasn't quite used to them being out all the time, but he did like how he didn't constantly have the ache that ran up through them when they were bound. "What's not to like about you?"

"The comic books. You just said -"

"I said it was weird, not bad. In fact, your childlike interest in them is kind of endearing."

"Maybe I can get you to actually read some if you stick around."

Kurt laughed at that and purposely batted his lashes flirtatiously at Blaine. "Don't get your hopes up."

"We'll have to set you up with a room of your own… there's that room off beside mine. It's filled with boxes but we can clear that out. Set you up." Blaine quickly said, changing the topic as the red made a reappearance on his cheekbones.

"What are in all those boxes anyhow?"

"Things I really don't need but keep anyhow."

"Blaine Anderson, are you a candidate for Hoarders?"

Another sweet laugh, and while Kurt couldn't see any aura's, he could tell that the tension was melting off of Blaine since he had made his decision known. "No… I… Come on. Let's deal with that room."

The textbook was slammed shut with the highlighter poking out of the page where Blaine had been reading, and the pair went to deal with the jampacked room. Boxes on top of boxes were there, some with labels, but most without. Kurt helped move them one by one into the hall while Blaine cracked them open to see what was in them, writing GARBAGE in big, bold letters on the side of each of them after inspecting the contents.

"I'll drive it all out to the dump tomorrow and order you some furniture." Blaine said as Kurt wondered what was in all those boxes, though knew it wasn't his place to ask.

As the room cleared out, Kurt uncovered a few items that couldn't be boxed; a violin, a keyboard piano, an acoustic guitar, and a flute. He didn't bring those things out, but when Blaine wandered into the more spacious room, he collected the violin and flute and added them to the garbage pile.

"Why are you getting rid of those?"

Blaine shook his head as he looked away from Kurt, going to retrieve the keyboard next, "Don't need them."

"Why do you have them then?"

"Used to play them."

Kurt looked back at the instruments, so carelessly tossed into the pile of what Blaine had decided was junk. "You can play all those?"

"I used to." Blaine's voice became gruff as he lifted the keyboard and placed it with the violin and flute. "I don't anymore."

"Why not…?"

Blaine exhaled with the drop of the keyboard. "Because I don't."

The response was curt and Kurt could see the tension rise back up again in Blaine. He set a hand on the other boy's shoulder, stopping him from going in for the guitar, "Hey… I didn't mean to upset you…"

"You didn't… I just…." Blaine looked down to the ground. It was these kind of moments that Kurt could see the child in him. He was upset, not sure of how to deal with whatever he was feeling at the moment, and petulant because of it. Kurt knew how his dad had dealt with him when he got in these kinds of funks, but wasn't sure if it would be so easy to help Blaine in the same way. Still, he had to try.

So Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders and pulled him in for the best Burt-like hug he could manage. He knew he wasn't as strong or as broad as his father, nor did he smell like him, but Kurt tried to mimic the action that had brought him relief so many times throughout his life.

Blaine seemed surprised at first, and then, so carefully, melted into the hug and just let out the longest of breaths - as if he had been holding one for years. The pressure in his muscles dissipated after a moment, and though he didn't meet Kurt's eyes, keeping his head over Kurt's shoulder instead, Kurt knew he had done well.

"Maybe… I'll find a place for the instruments." Blaine said softly before pulling away, cheeks red and eyes still avoiding Kurt's.

"Okay." Kurt uttered, smiling at Blaine before resuming the emptying of the room - which ended up being much larger than Kurt had anticipated once all the boxes were out. They had put as many could fit into the back and trunk of Blaine's Prius, but it would probably take him a few runs to the dump in order to be able to get rid of it all.

Isabelle and Elliott seemed nonplussed by the news that Kurt was staying, letting him know that they thought it was a great idea and that Blaine could show him how to connect to other people in the league. There were no conventions, no big gatherings, nothing that would draw suspicion - just a network of individuals who had the ability to contact others for help or guidance.

"Why are there meta's now? Has anyone figured that out?" Kurt asked over their last group dinner.

"There have always been metahumans Kurt." Isabelle said plainly. "What has changed is the frequency of incidences. It used to be the very odd person, people in mythology or history regarded as gods or great leaders a lot of the time in fact. Now there's so many more. Some are attributing it to the rapid increase in global population, some think the increase in synthetic chemicals and pollutants has triggered more occurrences, but we're really not one hundred percent on any specific reason for it."

"How do you know… people in history have been meta's…?"

"The same way psychologists have diagnosed people long dead with different mental health ailments or attributes - anecdotes and case studies. So it's not a perfect science, but it's one that makes sense to most of the scientific types we know. It's commonly believed, among some of the people we know that consider themselves metahuman scholars, that Alexander the Great was able to manipulate water, that the prophet Muhammad had the ability to coerce others by speaking, that Maria Theresa had foresight, that Galileo Galilei was -"

"Okay, gotcha." Kurt said, shaking his head. More new information. More things to process in his already swarmed mind. "It's like being gay. Always existed, but more spoken about now."

"Exactly man." Elliott said, glancing from Blaine to Kurt, "And we three get to be both. Talk about lucky!"

Kurt snickered and Blaine just groaned, spinning the spaghetti on his plate with his fork and looking at it intently. Isabelle just smiled, as always.

"Anyhow. There's lots of things we can send you to read Kurt… and if you find yourself bored by sticking at home all day, there are some roles you can take on in an online capacity, but we'll let you get settled first."

"Thanks. I was wondering what I was going to do with my time - aside from ensuring Blaine doesn't get ill from his idea of cleanliness."

"Hey!"

Elliott laughed and nodded, "Oh yeah. I got that vibe from him. It's a good thing you're here to help him out man."

With that, Elliott's eyebrows waggled suggestively and Blaine again looked down at his food with an embarrassed moan.

Things were looking up, and for the first time in a long time, Kurt was excited for what would come next.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to everyone for staying with me on this! A big thanks to whomever nominated this on Scarves & Coffee as the featured fic. Would you believe that it's my FOURTH featured fic? I swear I owe somebody (or somebodies) some cookies.**

**I've been asked a couple times about update schedules. In a better world I'd have the time to update at least twice a week (Sundays and Wednesday), however it's just going to be Sunday's for now. As I've noted before, September is crazy as a teacher, and I'm a teacher that's been put into a new school to change things up and am discovering that I have my work cut out for me. On top of that, my master's course this semester has one of those professors who seems to think his course should be the center of your universe and I have a ridiculous amount of readings and assignments - none of which are fun (like calculus assignments). On top of it, I still have to do that whole being a mom thing.**

**I know, it sounds like excuses, and really they are, but unfortunately, in the grand scheme of things, fanfiction isn't in the top three priorities right now. Sorry!**

**On the flip side - the comments and the reviews and the questions on tumblr have been wonderful. I don't know what I'm doing or have done to deserve such wonderful readers but if you tell me I'll make sure to do it more.**

* * *

Blaine tried to keep up with Kurt's shadow, running and trying to remember to breath through his nose and not his mouth to help his stamina. No matter how hard he tried though, Kurt could always outpace him; it didn't matter if Kurt was walking, running, or, as he was currently, flying overhead. Blaine knew that Kurt would be the one to catch the creep they were chasing, and that he was just trying to keep up so that Kurt had back up if necessary.

It only took Kurt two weeks to weasel his way into Blaine's "heroing" runs after Isabelle and Elliott had left. Blaine had tried to hold Kurt back, citing the need for training and transition time, but then had been outsmarted by the man with wings

"Who had to give you permission to go out and fight crime?"

Of course, Blaine had been alone, and had made the decision for himself, so he certainly couldn't argue Kurt making the choice to come along with him.

Blaine wished he could have said their first run together was more exciting, but all it entailed was sitting around on rooftops in a smaller town by Lima that had suffered a string of burglaries, hoping to catch the criminals in action. They never showed though, at least not that night, so the two of them just kicked around the quiet little town with more American flags strung on windows than curtains, and talked.

Well, Kurt talked, Blaine listened.

He talked about fashion, about Broadway, about celebrity gossip. He spoke at length about what he had read from what Isabelle had sent him or the latest joke Elliott had forwarded to him. Sometimes he even spoke about his old friends back in school, wondering aloud about how they were and what they thought about him now.

Blaine just listened, hooked on each and every word. The amount Kurt had opened up to Blaine in a matter of weeks made him feel like he mattered for the first time in a long time. Not just as a hero, or as another metahuman, but as a person, valued regardless of abilities because he was someone's friend.

They were only friends too. Sure they danced around one another; flirting, playing coy, and stealing long, dark glances across the room, but Blaine didn't know the first thing about going to the next step, and he wasn't sure that Kurt even wanted him to. Plus, if Kurt didn't want anything more and Blaine made a move, then Blaine would end up making a fool of himself and harming the safe, friendly relationship they had now, one Blaine held dear to his heart.

After a few nights of lingering on rooftops, the burglars did make an appearance. Blaine and Kurt found them after they had smashed open a car window to get inside and at the contents. Kurt acted on impulse, swooping down and knocking the guy on the outside of the car flat on his rear, then turning and yanking the guy inside the car out of it. By the time Blaine had caught up, Kurt was already handcuffing them to the broken window frame while they stared at him in shock and wonder, too amazed at what had felled them to panic. All Blaine contributed was grabbing the cell phone out of one of the guy's pants pockets and dialing emergency. Then they left, Kurt grinning like a fool the whole way back to the Prius and the whole drive back to the farmhouse.

Now it was like Kurt was the old pro at crime fighting and Blaine was just a sidekick, catching up at the last minute to do the boring part of the work because Kurt had always spotted and apprehended the criminal before Blaine could even figure out what was going on. Kurt never hesitated when he jumped in, but Blaine wasn't surprised by it - they never would have met, after all, if Kurt had paused to think about what he did. He jumped into that fire as surely as he jumped into action.

"Agh!"

That was the sound of Kurt, whose flying shadow had left Blaine seconds earlier as he went in for the kill, tackling the guy they had been chasing. They had come to Westerville that night in hopes of catching some kids who had been spraying profane graffiti all over local businesses and instead caught sight of a guy who had gone in to rob a convenience store.

Blaine reached Kurt and the guy, who was cowering against the wall of the alleyway they were in and holding the brown paper bag of cash out to Kurt.

"Take it. Take it. Please. Sorry."

They always begged. Desperation floating over them so thick that Blaine could damn near smell it as well as see it. The media had conditioned people to think meta's were out to get them, and while Kurt had certainly caught the guy, Blaine had yet to see him do more to anyone than tackle them down. Neither of them had had to fight. It was enough that they were metahuman's to scare the people they caught.

Knowing his role in this situation, Blaine pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his utility belt and handcuffed the guy to a metal railing. Kurt just watching, staring down the man who didn't even try to pull away as Blaine worked, taking away the bag of cash and setting it down nearby. Cop cars were already calling out nearby, which meant that Kurt and Blaine had to make a quick exit now that their work was done.

"Ready?" Kurt asked of Blaine once he finished up.

Blaine nodded, letting Kurt wrap his arms around his torso, heave his wings up and down a few times in quick succession, and let him lift off with Blaine in tow. He had figured out how to take off from the ground a little over a week after Isabelle and Elliott had left, and figured out he could carry Blaine in the process a month ago after they ended up in a dead-end alley in Lima and could think of no other way out of the situation. It was exhilarating, and Blaine loved this part of the night. Air smacking his hair back against his scalp, the smell of the sky - so uniquely fresh, and just being held while he got to look, unrestricted, at Kurt and his wings.

At home, Blaine was now able to look past the wings, even though Kurt now wore them like a cloak - the high joints hooked over his shoulders and the front of the wings brought together over the top of his chest. It was the kind of thing a great king might have once worn, and it definitely suited Kurt. Occasionally he'd lose a feather and not notice, allowing Blaine to steal it and place it carefully into a little box he had where he was collecting those lost bits of Kurt.

He was up to twenty four. They were all the smaller feathers - the larger ones didn't seem to fall, but all still magnificently soft and creamy. Blaine had longed to touch Kurt's wings again, but dared not ask the question, especially when everything seemed to be going so swimmingly between them.

It was a month after Kurt had been a part of his home that Kurt's father made his first appearance. The investigators and media had backed off, and Burt Hummel had taken one of the vehicles from the shop he owned to drive out to the farm, having been given directions courtesy of Isabelle via a carefully placed message on the issues of Kurt's Vogue magazine that was still being delivered to his dad's house. Their reuniting was epic, and Blaine found himself getting nonsensically jealous at the strength and the duration of the hug Kurt was getting from his father. Up until that point, it had only been Blaine hugging Kurt.

Burt Hummel was an imposing guy at first glance, who said what he thought and was remarkably perceptive. By the time Blaine had been around him for lunch and then supper, just watching Kurt and his father catch up and laugh and talk about old times, he realized that Kurt's dad was not as tough as he looked, and was probably just a big softie at heart. He loved Kurt, that much was obvious even if Blaine didn't look at his aura, and he was worried about him too. He didn't trust Blaine either, not completely, but seemed convinced that Kurt was in the best situation for the time being.

Burt came around every other week after that, always telling Kurt he needed to be careful and take care of himself. He had seen the little bits of video footage on the internet where Blaine and Kurt had been in action, and suffice to say, he didn't like it. It wasn't up to Kurt to deal with the criminal element, he had argued, that was for cops who had specialized training, not a kid in too tight spandex with wings.

Kurt had been firm though. What else was he supposed to do? Isabelle had him writing a weekly blog as a 'male fashion consultant' for under a psuedonym, but that didn't take him all week to do, nor did it make him feel as useful and special as being able to go out and catch the criminals the trained policeforce couldn't seem to take care of. The argument always ended with both father and son red faced and staring at one another while Blaine awkwardly tried to offer them some tea.

Over time, Burt had loosened up around Blaine, even watching a basketball game on TV with him while Kurt made them all dinner. Carole and Finn had even started coming by as well, and, through Finn, Blaine now had someone who truly appreciated his comic book collection.

"Dude! You have the whole Crisis series in perfect form… and #1 of this series…. you could make so much money off these!"

"Off some colored paper? Really Finn?" Kurt had asked, there to tell them that supper was ready.

"Yeah! Oh man Blaine… these are amazing…"

Blaine had grinned manically that whole night as Finn gushed over his collection, only pausing to ask Kurt questions about his wings, which he did each time he showed up.

"So, like, do you molt?"

"I'm not a bird Finn."

"But… do you molt?"

Kurt would sigh, and, patiently explain what he could do to Finn who seem just as entranced by the wings around Kurt as Blaine was. Carole, to her credit, never asked or even looked at the wings - seeing Kurt as just Kurt. It really was a shame that she hadn't been party to Kurt's secret before, because it was clear to Blaine that she cared for him a lot and just wanted him to be happy.

Through Finn, Kurt was able to catch up on school gossip, though he made a point to never talk glee club since he was aware that Blaine was the head of one of their local competitors. Blaine would never use the information against the New Directions, but Finn was still guarded on account of a girl named Rachel who had trusted a member of Vocal Adrenaline that had caused a whole lot of grief for the club when he had been revealed as duplicitous.

In fact, there was always so much new and varied gossip that Finn shared with Kurt each time he showed up, that Blaine had admit that being at an all boys school was a lot different than being in a public school. He had always presumed that they were a lot the same, just, with girls, but obviously Blaine didn't have sisters to know the extent of how much having girls around all the time changed things, and it wasn't like his mother was a good example of how women usually were.

"You really thought that a publicly funded school that ANYONE can attend, which means it's attended by people that can't afford private school, was going to be the same as your fancy pants, uniformed all boys academy?" Kurt snickered as he sat at the table that night after getting back to the Prius and driving back home.

"Well… initially… I mean… it's not like I knew any better." Blaine said, adding Kurt's preferred amount of cream and sugar to the cup of coffee on the counter before taking that cup along with his own unaltered cup to the table where he sat across from Kurt.

"I've been thinking about doing day runs…" Kurt mused as he took the mug in hand and sipped the overly sweet concoction he liked.

"No… bad idea Kurt. Too many people around in the day."

"But… I'm bored staying at home all day, and we don't even go out every night. I'm getting cabin fever."

"I'm sorry… sometimes I need to study for tests and get schoolwork done… Kurt, there's not enough crime to be going out so much, and the more you go out, the more likely the authorities will set up a trap for you. Don't be predictable. Don't be accessible. Didn't you read the guide Elliott sent you on staying out of trouble?"

Blaine got the frustrated sigh and grumble he anticipated in response as Kurt glowered down into his coffee, flashes of red and yellow bouncing off around him. Even his wings twitched in annoyance, so much of an entity on their own that they reminded Blaine of a tail on a dog - expressing everything from shame to happiness with simple movements.

"I read it... that being said, what the hell else am I supposed to do around here Blaine? I'm bored, and as fun as it is playing house-husband to you -"

"Don't." Blaine warned, seeing how much red was flexing over Kurt's head. "I don't expect you to cook and clean. I've told you that a hundred times before."

"But I have NOTHING else to do around here." Kurt snapped, looking back up at Blaine with eyes narrowed and specked with his pupils that were immersed in blue.

"Can Isabelle give you more stuff to do online? Maybe we could get you into some online courses with that psuedonym you have. Or maybe -"

"What the hell would I study Blaine? What good is an education when I can't go to college or university? Even if I do it all online - what happens then? No one is going to hire me. The instant I show up for an interview they'll call the cops and a fat lot of good all that education will do me when I'm tied up in a prison somewhere."

Blaine groaned, letting his face fall into his palms as he rubbed his face over in a blend of exhaustion from being up so late and exasperation with Kurt. Usually Kurt was logical, practical... intelligent, but Blaine could understand his frustration, and see why Kurt wanted to do more.

It gave him a purpose.

Purpose gave you a meaning in life.

"Whatever. I'm not condoning it, but if you insist on going out in the day I can't stop you either. Just, please Kurt... please... just don't get cocky. Be careful. Be ten times as observant."

"I know how to handle myself Blaine. I am the one who's caught all the bad guys since we started doing this together after all."

There it was. The reminder that Blaine wasn't as good as he thought. All the training, the martial arts, the gymnastics, the strategizing - they were nothing compared to Kurt's innate skills and attributes. Blaine really was the sidekick, and from everything he had read in comic books, the sidekicks were there for comic relief or as a comparison to show just how much better the main hero was. Growing up, Blaine had always looked up to the heroes, wanted to be like them, even before his powers appeared. Fighting on his own he had felt like he was one of them too, but now with Kurt alongside him, he felt redundant.

Useless.

"I'm going to go to bed..." Blaine huffed, standing up and abandoned the coffee he had only had a sip out of.

"Fine."

They would be alright in the morning. There would be a little bit of tension that would fade away as the day wore on. It wasn't the first time they had clashed, and Blaine knew it wouldn't be the last. Carole had chuckled over it when they got into a little tiff at one dinner over the best vantage points for surveying an area.

"You two are like an old married couple."

Except that they weren't. They were anything but. Friends - yes. A couple - only on the streets and platonically so. Even when Kurt was being ridiculous though, as he was now, Blaine still wanted more. He couldn't stop Kurt from jumping into trouble, but he wanted to offer up his arms as a safe place when he got out of it.

The next morning went exactly as Blaine predicted. There was quiet tension in the morning as both men went about their own business, but then, prior to lunch, Kurt asked what Blaine wanted to eat.

"You don't have to make me anything."

"You didn't have any breakfast though."

"Sour stomach."

Kurt sighed and flopped down on the edge of the bed where Blaine had his books all spread before him, sending them bouncing up momentarily. Kurt's wings pooled around him on the bed, covering up some papers and pens, replacing the mundane with the fantastic as he looked back to Blaine.

"Look. I'm sorry. I know you just don't want me to get hurt."

Blaine peered up from where he had been laying on his stomach as he did his homework. Kurt was sincere, and his pupils, small pinpricks the night before, were now big, black and open to Blaine.

"I don't."

"It's just… I feel useless hanging around here… I think I could do some real good for the meta cause if I go out more."

Now Blaine sighed, pushing himself up with his hands so he was sitting across from Kurt. "You already have Kurt, and there's other ways to help meta's… the online forums, the database organization, the -"

"I'm not comfortable staring at a screen all day Blaine. I would much rather talk face to face than through a messenger."

"But that's not a reason to rush into danger."

"What danger Blaine?!" Kurt's hands swept up and to the sides in a frantic gesture, wings bouncing on his shoulders where he had them hung by their arches, "We stop kids from painting swear words on building and catch the odd burglar. This isn't one of your comic books. There aren't any big super villains with masterful plans. These are things anyone could do, metahuman or not, and just haven't."

"No… no super villains, just a government bent on making life hell for people like us." Blaine said somberly, looking down at the blanket he was sitting on.

"I'm fast Blaine. I can fly. I can see things way better than I realized most people can. I heal… ridiculously fast. The government isn't going to get me."

Blaine looked back up. Kurt was so convinced of himself. It was a big change from the unsure kid Blaine had saved months ago from a fire who wasn't even sure he could fly until he jumped to save him. Kurt had confidence now. All those nights on the streets catching petty thugs had given him the self assurance that had led up to this point.

"I'm allowed to worry still. You don't question your dad when he worries."

Kurt frowned, lips caught together tightly as he looked at Blaine and then looked towards the wall before speaking again. "You're not my dad."

"No, but I'm still someone that cares a lot about you."

There was a deafening silence as Kurt looked back at Blaine, who worried he had overstepped with that admission. Was it too much? Too weird? Then Kurt's former frown morphed into a grin.

"I care about you too Blaine. I'll be careful out there. I don't want you to worry."

It was little relief to Blaine, but at least Kurt was smiling and speaking to him.

"How about I make us some BLT's and you play me something on the guitar?"

Blaine nodded, slipping off the bed and following Kurt into the kitchen. The guitar sat on a stand in there, and he picked it up gingerly, sitting at the table and plucking the strings. He had been ready to toss the damned thing, but Kurt, in his wily way, had managed to convince him not to. Now Kurt got Blaine to play for him regularly, a subtle way of getting Blaine to practice. As a bonus though, Kurt would often sing along. His countertenor voice and vocal range adding to the angelic qualities Kurt possessed. The first time Blaine had heard him sing, he actually forgot to keep playing the guitar, losing himself in that voice. Now that he was used to it, he was able to listen and play at the same time, though it didn't make Kurt's voice any less impressive.

"My wings started growing as little buds when I hit thirteen." Kurt noted once he had the food made and they were sitting at the table. "Dad was worried it was a tumor or something and wanted to go to a doctor… something inside me told me that was a bad idea."

"No kidding." Blaine noted after taking a bite. "Doctor would have had to report you if he suspected you were a meta."

"What about you?"

Blaine blinked, peeking over at Kurt as he took another bite. Kurt started that conversation with the intent that Blaine would share his meta-discovery story. He forced himself to swallow the BLT, and then again to help his esophagus push down the bit of sandwich he really should have chewed longer.

"Uh… well… art class was when it really started."

"Art class?"

"Yeah… well we had to draw portraits of our partners. I kept drawing them with glows around them… didn't realize then that other people didn't see aura's… The art teacher was, thankfully, open minded about artistic interpretations and didn't see it as me potentially being a meta, though she did suggest I see an eye doctor."

"That was lucky."

Blaine nodded, thinking back to those pictures. One of the people he had been paired with said the glow Blaine had drawn around him was stupid, but then there had been another boy that thought it really made the drawing pop. His parents hadn't been pleased. He was in a prep school after all, and in a prep school conformity was the norm. Why couldn't Blaine just do things the way he was expected to?

"Then… uh… there was this dance. I had just come out as gay to my parents, and they weren't bad about it, but you could tell they were struggling with it. They were the kind of parents who, from an early age, would say things like 'We'll find you a nice girl to marry one day' and I could tell those ideas they had about my future were based around the desire for me to me straight, so when I told them I was gay, it was like I crushed their hopes for my future."

"Oh…. Blaine…"

Blaine shook his head. If he was going to be open with Kurt, he needed to keep speaking. "Anyhow… because I wanted to show them that being gay wasn't as bad as they thought, I went with a male friend to a Sadie Hawkins dance that was being held between my school and the sister school of my school. Bad idea…" Blaine sighed as he pushed back the visual memories threatening to make him emotional. "... after the dance a bunch of guys from the school came and beat me and my friend up. That's when I really realized I was a metahuman though because I… I projected my fear and panic onto the guys attacking us without knowing what I was doing. I had no control then… "

"Blaine-"

"The ringleader went crazy. They put him in one of those institutions. The other guys just ran away home…. I didn't have control… the guy I went with to the dance… on top of being beaten, I projected onto him too, and it took weeks for the fear to wear off of him. He cried the whole time…"

"Oh god, Blaine-"

"My parents paid off the investigators, who officially reported that the guys had taken some bad mushrooms or something, and that my friend was just suffering from post traumatic stress disorder… but they knew the truth about me then, and knew that my being gay was just the tip of the disappointment iceberg for them."

Kurt's hand flew across the table and took Blaine's, holding it firmly and brushing a thumb over the side of his hand in slow, soothing motions. At this point Blaine was looking down at his half eaten sandwich as he spoke, unable to make eye contact as he worked to keep the feelings from that night buried down in his gut, where they wouldn't threaten to make him cry and snivel in front of Kurt.

"They had money.. so they were able to make the connections that were needed to get me in contact with the league… anyhow." Blaine took a deep breath and looked up at Kurt, forcing the most pathetic smile onto his face. "That was years ago. I can control it now."

Kurt nodded slowly, eyes glued on Blaine. "I know you can… but Blaine, where are your parents now?"

Blaine's smile turned flat as he looked back away. "I… can we talk about it later?"

"Of course."

It had been a long time since Blaine had talked about that much, and he knew himself well enough to know that if he went on he would become a blubbering mess. They finished eating in silence, Kurt's hand retreating back to his side of the table and leaving Blaine's hand feeling like it had lost a digit with the removal.

The next day, with Blaine at school, Kurt did his first solo day patrol. There was a flood of videos uploaded showing Kurt flying over various points in Lima, and Burt was back on the news being questioned about his son again - in particular, did he have contact with his rogue winged son? No was the answer of course, but Blaine could see that even Burt Hummel struggled with lying, even if it was in Kurt's best interests.

The next day Kurt went to Westerville, and Blaine even saw him swooping over the Dalton property on his way to his next vantage point. It was all the boys at Dalton could talk about for the rest of the day, and Blaine had to play it cool - though gushing about the wings did come naturally to him.

The media gave Kurt various names since he hadn't picked one for himself. Angel, Birdman, Cloud Surfer… Kurt didn't say what he thought of those names one way or the other as he skimmed over the news stories featuring him. If there was a name he wanted or liked, he didn't let Blaine know anyhow. Crime rates plummeted in the area though, as it became clear that the area was well guarded day and night now. That was what Kurt seemed to care about, pride floating around him like a flag whenever he read the reports on it.

It went on like that for a month, with Blaine's role being relegated to the occasional sidekick, still rushing to catch up with Kurt. The most he ever seemed to contribute was checking people's color aura's out to see if they had any malicious feelings at the time which would occasionally lead them to a crack den or a case of domestic abuse. Kurt was right though. They didn't deal with super villains. Everything they did was small, and even though the communities seemed to thrive with the crime reduction, the police publicly chastised them for doing their job for them - citing that metahumans were now trying to interfere in the justice system and take jobs away from hardworking normal humans.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when things changed. Blaine was in his physical education class, playing rugby out on the field when a murmur rose up among the students and he followed their voices and fingers to where they were pointing Kurt out in the sky. Kurt was perhaps a little too predictable when it came to his runs in Westerville, because he always soared over Dalton. Blaine wasn't sure if it was coincidence or a need to check in on Blaine that made Kurt do it, though he hoped it was because of the latter reason, but the students now always had their phones and cameras on hand because it was common enough that they could get some video or pictures on a near regular basis.

Blaine watched as Kurt hovered overhead, then snapped his neck to the side, body and wings following as he caught sight or sound of something that concerned him. It was a quick enough movement that Blaine ran himself off the field, unnoticed by the teacher and his peers who all had their eyes on the sky, and towards the direction Kurt had gone.

It took him off Dalton property, and towards the south side of town - quite literally on "the other side of the tracks". It was only a few blocks away from the prestigious school Blaine attended, but it was a whole other world the further south one went over the tracks. This was not where Westerville's finest lived and operated.

As he continued on, hoping to hear or see something that would lead him to Kurt, he saw a feather floating down from the sky. He was close. Then there was a scream, and then another, and Blaine was running down an alley that managed to remain dark even though it was the middle of the day.

Those screams were Kurt's.

More screaming, a mixture of voices, a sickening crack followed by a wail, and laughter.

"That'll teach you meta scum!"  
"Think you can do our job for us?!"  
"Look at it. Thinks it's better than us."

As Blaine rushed to the scene, all he could see at first were feathers everywhere. They were floating through the air chaotically, tossed all over the ground, and even on top of a half open dumpster. They were everywhere but on Kurt, and the largest of the feathers had blood tinged on the quills.

They had ripped out his beautiful feathers.

Kurt was curled up on the ground, a mess of blood and tattered costume. His wings, or rather, the appendages that once were feathered, were pulled in tightly against his back as he tried to make himself small and compact - a defensive tactic that didn't put off his attackers at all. One had a crowbar that fell down heavily against Kurt's back with a disgusting crunch as soon as Blaine got close, still unnoticed by the group of five men encircled around Kurt. Some were kicking him, another was stripping the bits of spandex off him to expose him to the world. Above them all was the darkest black imaginable - malicious evil in its truest form.

Blaine swept a hand up, even though he didn't need to in order to project fear onto them all, he found it helped him direct the act. In moments the men were screaming, dropping to their knees and balling up much like Kurt was. Blaine didn't even have to summon up the emotion because the fear he was feeling was all too real to him. He couldn't lose Kurt. Not like this.

With all of them down and squirming in place, Blaine rushed to Kurt's side, pulling off his Dalton polo top to cover him up as he laid on the ground. He was still alive, though his eyes were swollen shut and his breathing was labored. His body was caked with his own blood, and from the cuts and scratches on a couple of the guys, it looked like he had fought back against what must have been a trap, but to no avail.

"Oh god… Kurt… Kurt… oh… please be okay…" Blaine whisper-murmured to the other boy as he pulled his phone out and immediately sent a message to Isabelle reading 'NEED HELP NOW' before tucking his arms under Kurt's knees and neck to lift him up, hoping that it wouldn't hurt him or make his injuries worse. They had discovered that Kurt healed fast, but if he died, there was no coming back from that.

"What the fucking hell? I leave for a second and some kid drops you all?"

Blaine snapped his head around, a sixth man entering onto the scene with a gun in hand. He had slipped in behind Blaine while Blaine was completely focused on Kurt and now had it pointed on Blaine. This was not something Blaine was ready for, and he wasn't sure if he could even do anything with Kurt in his arms.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The noise seemed to come out of nowhere, and both Blaine and the man with the gun dropped to their knees. Blaine managed to keep a hold on Kurt through sheer willpower, though he wanted to cup his hands over his ears like the man was doing, having dropped the gun in the process.

That was when Blaine realized that Kurt was the one who has made the deafening noise. He wasn't just alive, but had his head turned towards the man, one eye slitted open as far as he could manage. When his mouth close again though he seemed to have exhausted himself because he was out, a dead weight in Blaine's arms, but one that Blaine could now carry away with the threat of the gun removed.

So Blaine carried Kurt, and he ran as fast as he could. Somewhere in that running, between the stunned looks of pedestrians as he rushed past and the sounds of sirens in the distance, Blaine reached an epiphany.

Life was changing once again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Another busy week, and another rush to get this done before bedtime. Hopefully it's alright as it is because I didn't get a chance to double check it. Please let me know if it needs some TLC.**

**I would like to thank my new reviewers, as well as all the consistent ones who keep me striving to get this out despite the hell of life right now. I would also like to thank everyone who takes a moment to send me a message on tumblr as that is definitely my day-to-day hangout. You are all so sweet and much too wonderful to me.**

**I would also like to remind those that aren't aware that we have a fanfic author in need. Missbeizy is going through a rough patch and if anyone has any spare change they can donate - she has a paypal link on her tumblr page: .com Honestly, this woman has contributed so much to the fandom and has always been so happy to do it. We're a fandom that has been known to support great causes and one another through it all, and I hope that we can continue to do so even when RIB make the show burst into flames as all the spoilers suggest will happen in season 6.**

**Thank god for fanfic anyhow. More continuity than the Glee writers, and better plotlines.**

* * *

Consciousness came in bits and pieces, accompanied by flares of pain and flickers of memory. He could hear voices around him that were familiar and also weren't, fading in and out like they were muffled through a wall. Nothing was said though that he could understand, and even when it felt like he was finally awake, he looked down at himself and saw six fingers on each of his hands that were mysteriously purple and realized that he must be dreaming.

When he finally did wake for real, Kurt found that he could only open his eyes to slivers, and even then then he hastened to snap them shut because the light stabbed his pupils mercilessly, making the dull headache he had grow into a full fledged migraine. Bit by bit he worked up the nerve to open his eyes again, letting them adjust to the light and slowly focus on his surroundings. A white ceiling with an uncovered bulb was over him and it was surrounded by brown walls. He wasn't in Blaine's farmhouse, that much he could establish, but trying to turn his head to look in either direction gave way to spasms in his neck that made his whole body stiffen and ache - even more than it already was. So Kurt stayed in place, not daring to use his voice to alert someone to his consciousness since his throat was so swollen he was surprised he could still breathe on his own.

That left him with his own thoughts, and his mind immediately gave him shit for getting himself into this mess. He had been so damned cocky, so sure of himself. He didn't even check to see who was attacking the guy calling for help; just swooped in and ended up with a crowbar to the back of his head before he knew what was going on. A group ganged up on him, spitting hate as he tried to find an escape or at least fight back, and his only saving grace has been kicking away the one guy's gun before he had been able to use it.

Well, that and having Blaine catch up to them before they got the gun back anyhow.

Blaine...

Kurt forced his head to turn, ignoring the fire it caused through his spine and extremities. First to the right where he saw he was hooked up to some kind of monitor with numbers and words he couldn't understand, and then to the left whereupon he let out a soft, relieved breath at what he saw there. Blaine, curled up in a ratty old chair that looked like it had come straight out of a 1970's sitcom with it's burnt orange colouring and well worn fabric, was asleep there. He was still in his prep school gym attire, a navy polo shirt with the Dalton logo, darker in some places where Kurt had bled on him. His white shorts were similarly dirtied with encrusted blood and dirt, and he had, at some point, kicked off his shoes and let his knee socks collapse down around his ankles. Blaine's jaw was dark, at least a day's growth of stubble collected over it that matched the black circles under his closed eyes and the black hair that had broken free of the gel he used and fallen in ringlets all around his face. Between it all he looked like he had aged years since Kurt had last seen him, at the house saying goodbye that morning in that proper little Dalton outfit he wore that made Kurt realize long ago he had a bit of a thing for boys in uniform.

Or, at least, Blaine in a uniform.

"19 hours, 27 minutes." An unfamiliar voice buzzed behind him, making Kurt hiss in pain as he craned his neck back again to see where it was coming from and finding himself looking upon a thin man with short blonde hair who was looking not at Kurt but at his monitor as he jotted down some information onto a clipboard. He had to be at least 30... maybe even 40... and as Kurt opened his mouth to speak, the man, glanced stoically towards him and responded to the questioned unasked.

"That's how long you've been here. As Isabelle had told me, you are mending faster than a normal human would, but the drugs we've had to administer to you to stop you from screaming in your sleep seem to have slowed the process - though it's still much faster than normal. The blunt force trauma points on your head have been healing up mainly, and I imagine that the rest of you will follow speedily once they're patched up. The only thing that doesn't seem to be healing is your wings, or rather, your feathers. There's no indication that they're growing back as quickly as the rest of you is repairing."

Kurt just blinked a few times. He hadn't even registered until it was pointed out that his wings were oddly bald, and that he was also laying back on top of them. Most of the time he slept on his side, which was a lot more comfortable considering he couldn't usually lay flat on his back.

"Isabelle will be here soon. I contacted her and told her that you were awake once your monitors alerted it to me. She'll explain more." The man said plainly before walking off and leaving Kurt alone with Blaine again.

He left Kurt with more questions than answers, but given the state Kurt was apparently in, he assumed that the answers would come with time. Once again he turned his head back to Blaine with some degree of effort and just watched the boy sleep for the next hour, fond thoughts slowly forming into stress as he realized that he had screwed Blaine's life up now as much as his own. There was no way Blaine had been able to get him somewhere safe without people seeing him. Just how exposed was he now? In trying to make Blaine proud of him and show him how far he'd come, Kurt had just made things worse.

"Oh... sweetpea..." Isabelle's voice crooned out as her heels click-clacked along the floor to Kurt's side, his hand taken into her own before Kurt could even look up towards the friendly, almost motherly face.

"Bryan's been taking good care of you.. he's not much in the way of having good bedside manner, but he's an excellent doctor... and a meta to boot... Oh..." Her free hand reached up to stroke over his cheek and, involuntarily, he winced as her fingers grazed over something sensitive. "Sweetie... god... we could have lost you..."

The voice Kurt managed to dredge up didn't sound like his own - so rough and gravelly, but at least he discovered he could still speak. "Sorry... I didn't mean for this to happen... to make you worry."

"A designer always worries about her best looking models... even if she can't put them on a runway." Isabelle cooed, trying to joke to lighten the mood as she scanned over Kurt with a sigh. "Blaine though... he hasn't left your side except to go to the washroom and even then he races there and back. He's the real worrier."

Kurt's heart seemed to come out of the numb sleep whatever drugs had been pumped into him had it in and smack against his ribs at Isabelle's comment. He looked back to Blaine, sleeping so sweetly near him with the occasional little snore that came off as more cute than irritating and immediately felt guilt tighten in his stomach. Blaine didn't deserve this, and Kurt certainly didn't deserve to be treated so well from him.

"Elliott and I were so sure you two had finally hooked up the way he hovered over you this whole time. Unfortunately it seems you both are still blind, or idiots, or both, and haven't realized what a good couple you'd make."

"My wings Isabelle... I don't have a chance at a normal life... but he... he does. He can pass as normal..." Kurt's raspy voice choked out, so unfamiliar to him that it seemed like someone else was speaking as he looked at Blaine.

"He's never going to be what you think is normal Kurt, and he doesn't want that anyhow." Another sigh came from her as she patted Kurt's shoulder gently. "He called me immediately... ran with you through Westerville. He's been outed too now. Everyone saw him carrying you. The off duty cops that beat you up claimed that you both ganged up on them and told everyone that he got into their minds. He's just as wanted as you are now baby."

Kurt whined softly. "No.. no... He can't... Oh god Isabelle. It's all my fault..."

"He hid with you in a half built house until I got there and picked you up." Isabelle continued, ignoring Kurt's tears that came as an accessory to his guilt. "Took me five hours and he stayed with you the whole time... and then sat in the backseat of my rental until I could get you to Bryan. You kept breaking into screams while you slept. Bryan figured it was because of the pain, or the trauma... but Blaine didn't leave you Kurt. He loves you."

That little tidbit didn't phase Kurt. On some level he knew it was true, and knew he felt the same even if he never did act on it. It did seem to make things worse though. Someone loved him and he had only managed to hurt them. "Isabelle..."

"Look sweetpea... I'll telling you this now because you're too incapacitated to ignore me or walk away. I can only imagine how upset you are at yourself for all this, but don't make it worse by pushing him away, like I think you might do, when he wakes up. He doesn't deserve that. Neither do you."

"But he -"

"Nope. Stop right there. No more of this B-list, romance novel crap where neither of you thinks you're good enough for the other. If this little snafu wasn't enough of a wake up call to you, then I'm officially going to call an intervention. I already lost a bet on how long it would take you two to hook up."

"... there was a bet?"

"Me, Elliott, and a bunch of the other meta's that Blaine has met and some you've talked to online."

"... why on earth?"

"Because all you two would ever talk about is one another."

"... oh."

"For the record, Holly won, but only because she said it would take two months and that was longer than anyone else had estimated when the bet began."

Kurt couldn't possibly respond to that. All he could do was keep looking at Blaine and wondering if he had been wrong about everything over the past few months. He was obviously wrong about his ability to fight crime on his own. He had underestimated his fighting skills, ignoring Blaine's direction and advice for improvement. Kurt thought he was indestructible, going so far as to test his healing by inflicting himself with cuts and bruises. He never considered that he could get hurt worse than any of that. He was sure all his subtle direction to Blaine to play his instruments would help him open up more, help him cope with the pain he had from his past. But even that... it took them arguing over Kurt's stupid ideas about fighting crime in the daytime for Blaine to really open up.

"Also, we reopened the betting since this all happened. If you want to make me happy and help me win Kurt, you'll propose to that man the moment he opens his eyes."

His laugh was wheezy, and rolled over into a bit of coughing, but it was honest at least. Isabelle was a good friend, if not a bit of a pushy one when it came to her competitiveness. When her own melodic voice joined his chuckling, Blaine made a little whine and stretched an arm out, a small roar escaping his lips as he began waking.

"And that's my cue to leave for a bit." Isabelle whispered, leaning down to peck Kurt on the cheek before slipping away. "Remember, help out an old friend."

Kurt would have rolled his eyes if they didn't ache so much.

"Hey... you're awake." Blaine murmured groggily as he looked over at Kurt. He kneeled himself off the chair and onto the floor along Kurt's bed so that he could look at Kurt, face to face, and monopolize Kurt's senses with everything about him. Blaine's face to see, his voice to hear, his musk to smell, and his breath to feel against his face.

"Yeah... thanks to you I'm still alive." Kurt choked out, spitting up almost every syllable as his voice seemed to have to struggle even more to come up out of him with Blaine so close.

"I think you just like me saving you."

"Maybe one day I'll save you."

It became deathly quiet for a moment after that, each of them just staring at the other. Kurt's tears hadn't really dried off yet, and he knew that in addition to how banged up he was, Blaine could probably see he was a hormonal mess. It was far from a good time for Kurt to tell Blaine that he had spent the last few months thinking of him when he touched himself under the covers, no matter how much Isabelle would have his head if she lost this latest bet.

"I'm sorry Blaine... I'm so sorry... Everyone knows now because of me... everyone-"

"Shh..." Blaine's finger was suddenly on his lips, salty and soft to the touch. "I don't care. You have to know that doesn't matter to me."

"But -"

The finger was joined by a second that served to mute him as he looked at Blaine, glad for once that Blaine could see his emotions so that at least he'd know how guilty Kurt really felt about it all.

"It was just a cover Kurt. Dalton was where I lied, not lived, and I know you'd do the same for me."

"But -"

A third finger then. "And just because your gifts are visible on the outside doesn't mean it would be any different."

Kurt stayed quiet then, knowing Blaine only had so many fingers to use up on his lips, and, quite frankly, Kurt was okay with being forced to kiss them as he was. Left without his voice, all he could was let his eyes dart up and down, back and forth, looking and double checking the sincerity of Blaine's words on his face. Blaine's eyes twinkled as he looked at Kurt; warm, whiskey eyes focused completely on Kurt's face and nothing else. Despite how ragged his unruly hair, stubble, and dark circled eyes looked, Blaine looked perfect to Kurt. The epitome of his knight in no-so-shining armor.

The fingers fell away from Kurt's lips then, since Blaine correctly assumed that he wouldn't be interrupted anymore. "I just want you to be alright Kurt. That's all I care about."

Kurt waited for a moment, ensuring that Blaine was truly done before speaking. "I'm okay... or I will be anyhow. Thanks again to you."

"Good." Blaine murmured, moving his hand to take Kurt's and squeeze it softly. "It's good to be useful now and then."

Kurt rolled his eyes then, a struggle given how sore they were, "You've always been useful."

"Hasn't felt like it lately…" Blaine admitted, eyes falling down to the edge of the bed at the stark white sheets, probably more bleach than fabric. "You've been doing everything since you showed up. Crime fighting, cleaning, cooking, making sure I've kept up on prime time TV…"

"God forbid you miss the latest episode of Teen Wolf…" Kurt joked, hoping to urge those caramel eyes to meet his again with the weakest bit of humor he could manage.

They did come back up, soft and hypnotizing. Kurt imagined that when Blaine was a little boy he got away with a lot using those puppy dog eyes. "There's a lot of really great abs on that show."

"Your's are pretty good too." Kurt admitted, letting his mouth turn up at the corners. Flirting came so easily. They had been at it for months, acknowledging one another's assets with no commitment behind it. This was the first time Blaine had his hand on Kurt's when he did it though, and that made it less playful and more serious somehow.

"Has anyone spoken to my dad?" Kurt asked, aptly shifting away from what he felt would lead to a conversation that he wanted and didn't want to have all at once.

"No.. there's too much media on his lawn right now, and government too."

"God…" Kurt hissed, trying to shift a little more onto his side for the sake of comfort. "... I'm the worst son ever to have to make him go through this over and over. Tell me, at least, they got the jerks…"

Blaine's lips pressed tightly together and his eyes shot away momentarily. "They… well…."

"Just turn on the news." Kurt sighed.

A small TV bolted up to the top corner of the wall opposite Kurt was turned on as Blaine stood and left his side, flashing immediately to a scene of the alley entrance that Kurt had gotten himself to trouble in. The news reporter standing in front of it seemed to be all too happy to be on the air, grinning despite the content of what she was speaking of.

"... the officers that were attacked by the winged metahuman plaguing Westerville and other nearby communities, as well as another, unregistered metahuman, are now in county hospital. There is no word on their state but local police commissioner Andrews had this to say…"

The scene switched to a press conference, focusing on the head of Westerville's police force behind the podium. "We will not stand for humans being bullied by those freaks that think they're better. As of ten o'clock this morning, federal meta registration officials have come to Ohio to ensure the security of our people. This attack on our brave men who serve to protect you all is…"

Kurt groaned and looked away from the screen. He had been set-up by the cops. They had intended to end him and now had found a way to use his escape against him regardless. Blaine shut off the TV and stepped back to Kurt's side, pulling the chair to the side of the bed and sitting himself down.

"You have to know that they wouldn't play fair."

"I just wanted to help Blaine…"

"I know. Your dad will know that too… and anyone who has half a mind will know that it's all a set-up."

"So now what?"

Blaine looked up, "We're in New York… the state anyhow, not the city. In a compound south of Lake Erie. This is where I came to learn about meta's, the extent of my abilities, and meet others like us…"

"Is it safe?"

Blaine nodded, looking back down to Kurt. "Yeah. There's some cities around but we're in a pretty remote place, and this specific part of it is in a bunker underground."

"Huh… Like a meta hide-out."

Blaine chuckled, "Kind of… there's only a handful of people that stay here all the time though. It's mostly like a safe house."

"That guy, the doctor, that was in here when I woke up. He's a meta?"

Blaine nodded, "Dr. Ryan. He's not the most sociable guy, but he knows his stuff."

"So his ability has something to do with healing or -"

"Melting."

"Melting?"

"Yeah. He can make himself into a puddle and then back again."

Kurt couldn't hold back the giggle inside him, even if it did hurt coming up. "That's…"

Blaine mirrored the laugh and then gently put his finger against his own lips as he spoke. "Don't bring it up in front of him. He can't stand that he got such an odd power."

"Noted."

When the doctor returned, Kurt's drug regimen was reduced, and as it was reduced, his ability to heal up increased. Blaine stayed at his side the whole time, even when Kurt insisted that Blaine at least go to take a much needed shower. By the next day, Kurt was off the medicine completely, and back to his old self, save for the lack of feathers. Out of shame, he kept the fleshy limbs tight against his back, feeling like they were more naked than they had been before. Dressed and showered, Blaine took him around the facility on a tour of the once-army bunker turned metahuman safe house.

"These are the rooms. I've got one set up for you here. Isabelle was good enough to get Elliott to go to the farmhouse and get a bunch of our stuff before they were able to figure out where I lived and turned the place upside down."

"Blaine… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I keep telling you that. Anyhow, your clothes and things are in number 16 here, and I'm across the hall in 17. We'll stay here until we figure out what to do or where to go next."

"They're okay with that?"

Blaine nodded earnestly, leading Kurt further down the blue painted concrete hallway, an attempt to make things look more homey and less sterile. "So long as we clean up after ourselves and pitch in when they need help on things, they're good. Trust me."

"So who stays here all the time?"

"Dr. Ryan for one.. and there's Howard. He's a level five with the ability to connect into technology. He makes Dr. Ryan look positively charismatic with his social inadequacies, but then again, he gets along better with technology than people. There's Sean who can induce paralysis in others, but is paralysed himself… he requires constant care so he stays here."

Kurt just nodded, knowing he'd no doubt meet these people, and thankful that Blaine was giving him the heads up on them all. As they stepped into what looked like a large common room with a pool table on one side, a foosball table on the other, and a circle of recliners around a large TV in the center, Kurt paused in place. There were people in there and he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet anyone no matter how well Blaine prepared him for it.

"My wings Blaine... they're naked..." he whispered over, stepping back in place as if the motion could make him invisible to the heads already lifting to acknowledge the arrivals.

Thankfully, Blaine stayed at his side, and Kurt didn't have to worry about making the first introduction as a blonde, lanky boy stood up and approached Kurt, holding out a gloved hand. The hand however, was momentarily looked past though as Kurt noticed that springing out from the guy's jeans was a black and white tail, and Kurt had to give his head a shake to bring him back to civility as he took the hand and gave it a shake. "Kurt."

"Adam." The man introduced himself as with a bit of an accent Kurt couldn't quite place, slipping off a cap on his head and revealing a small pair of symmetrical horn curled amidst his blonde locks. "Nice to meet another meta with physical traits. Though I think I'd prefer the wings to my horns and tail."

"And hooves." Blaine added on curtly, voice level as he looked disinterestedly at Adam and then back to Kurt. "Adam's come here from the U.K. Wasn't safe where he was."

"Hope to see you around Kurt. Karaoke night is Thursday." Adam said with a smile, turning away so the tail that couldn't seem to stay in his pants was in full view.

"He seemed nice…" Kurt observed, though got no response to Blaine who took him around, introducing him to Howard, who seemed more interested in the computer he was sitting in front of than Kurt, Sean, who was in a rolling bed set in front of the television which was playing some cop show, and then several others who were there on a temporary basis for various reasons.

There was Henri, whose body parts could regrow and was in hiding for now since his last job as a shop teacher had resulted in him cutting off a finger and being seen by some students as it regrew back. Sunshine, who, as her name suggested, could create illumination, was in the bunker after coming from the Philippines where she had been tossed out of her home once it was clear she was a metahuman. Quite sure of himself, Jesse was quick to show off his ability to mimic any physical skill he saw, from boxing to dancing, and was here on a self-imposed vacation from what he claimed was a busy schedule. There was April, a more mature woman who had apparently been in the safe house time and time again due to a love of liquor, leading her to repeatedly "accidentally" reveal her abilities of poison immunity by downing arsenic - which no one was quite sure how she managed to get. With April was Holly, a woman who had the ability to make her clothing and accessories change at will. She was there to spend some time with "gal pal" April. Finally there was Sebastian, another meta that had managed to keep his abilities hidden, even from his family, until he was able to get in contact with the league, probably due in no small part to his ability to coerce people to do or believe what he wanted them to using his words.

Kurt made a mental note not to trust that one, especially after Kurt had caught him eyeing Blaine up and down like a piece of meat.

"So what do we do while we're here?" Kurt asked after all the instructions were done with and Blaine had taken him to a communal kitchen where there were now sitting with some ready-made meals in front of them.

"There's online courses we can take, a gym, lots of games… really, there's nothing set to do or to not do. Isabelle will look into finding us a new place to move to and we just have to bide our time until then."

Kurt nodded, not mentioning that Blaine had once again suggested that they were moving together, as if what had been a matter of convenience at the farmhouse was now set in stone. It wasn't that he minded, more that he wondered why Blaine wouldn't want the chance to live alone again - or at least with someone that wouldn't risk getting him exposed as Kurt had.

"You trained here?"

Blaine nodded, mouth full of sandwich.

"How did that work?"

Blaine swallowed. "Well, Dr. Ryan did a full battery of tests and a lot of experiments… You might want to see about getting them done too, if only because we never knew about your ability to cry out like you did until you did it in that alleyway…"

Kurt nodded, "I didn't know about that either… it was all adrenaline…"

"It reminds me of this heroine, Black Canary, she's Green Arrow's main love interest and she-"

Kurt swiftly lifted a hand to silence Blaine. He knew where this would lead, and didn't want to spend the next hour fighting off sleep as Blaine went into the whole comic book mythology. "No."

"Sorry." Blaine chuckled.

"What's that about?" Kurt asked, pointing over at a black and red poster with a sketched out fist. KNOW YOUR STRENGTH was emblazoned across it, along with a website link and password.

"Oh… that's for… the extremists I guess. Metahumans who feel like they are actually superior to regular humans…"

"What do they do?"

"Make it harder for those of us who want to just peacefully coexist to do just that." Blaine sighed, taking his last bite and then pushing away the empty plate. "Safe houses are open to all meta's, regardless of their take on the meaning of their existence. You'll find that some people here might try to recruit you to what they believe is a noble cause even though it's anything but noble."

"Should I be worried?"

Blaine shook his head, "No… you're smart Kurt. I mean, you're probably better at reading people than I am in all honesty."

"It's the vocabulary..." Kurt said by means of dismissing the compliment. It had become a regular thing that Blaine would struggle to come up with an emotion he was seeing off someone, describing it in as much details as he could, and Kurt coming up with the odd word that was attached to it. Lugubrious, melancholy, morose, tenebrific, blithesome, compunctious - a plethora of new words that Kurt had taught to Blaine in the hopes of helping him verbalize some of the emotions he saw and thought there weren't words for. Kurt had helped Blaine to create a spectrum for each of the major emotions, plotting those sub-emotions upon it to help organize how he saw them. There were still words they couldn't come up with, and as Kurt had helped Blaine with the chart he had realized that there were a lot of feelings that there were no true words for, especially when all Blaine could describe it as was purple-pinky-yellow-greenish.

"No. It's more than that. You're amazing." Blaine said softly, eyes once again locked on Kurt in that intense manner he had, where Kurt was sure he saw nothing else in the room but him.

"Thank you... You're pretty great yourself."

God that sounded lame. With all the words he had at his disposal, great was what had come up with. Good job Hummel.

Blaine seemed to pick up on bits of what Kurt was feeling and let out a small chuckle as he held his eyes on Kurt with a playful grin. "Thanks. I try."

Awkward silence followed that as both boys fidgeted with their fingers. Blaine was the one to break it, as was usually the case, snapping his head up and asking. "I was wondering.. how did your feathers feel… I mean… coming out like that?"

The question sent an involuntary shudder down Kurt's spine as he recalled the beating. "It hurt… like nothing ever has before. It felt like they were tearing out my arm or my leg over and over again… it was utterly incapacitating."

"Can I.. massage them or something? Do they still hurt?"

They didn't hurt anymore, but Blaine looked so earnest, so eager across from him, and Kurt just wanted him to know that he appreciated him…

"Yeah… okay."

Blaine stood up then, and Kurt leaned forward to allow Blaine access to his back and wings, which he let fall out a little for better access. The instant Blaine's fingers began to rub over the wing joints, Kurt had to take in a deep breath and hold it. Warmth pooled in his belly, making him flush up from toes to nose. He was certain there were bundles of nerves in the arms of his wings, and he was sure Blaine innately knew just how to rub his fingers into those spots to make Kurt come completely apart with his touch.

"Are they always so tense and tight…?" Blaine asked quietly as he worked his magic fingers while Kurt mentally thanked whatever god or gods that existed that he was facing away from Blaine and so was his lap.

"I… don't know?" Kurt squeaked out, taking in another deep breath.

"Well… let me know when you want me to stop…"

Kurt didn't want Blaine to ever stop, at least his body didn't - his mind was trying to knock on his senses, reminding him that he was quickly going to lose all sense of propriety if he kept allowing Blaine to go on. Something must in his aura must have altered Blaine to that though because his hands pulled away, leaving his wings feeling cold and abandoned.

"I should… probably get to bed."

"Yeah." Kurt agreed, weakly choking up the single word. He waited until Blaine said good night and walked away before getting up himself and adjusting his pants so the issue in his underwear wouldn't be obvious if he ran into anyone in the hallways. The last thing he needed was to be the target of teasing at his latest home.

Though, his main concern he decided as he shut his eyes after curling up in the cot provided for him, was not how others might perceive him here, but how he was going to manage to tell Blaine the truth about how he felt.

Because he didn't have a clue how to do that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to everyone who dedicatedly reviews. Life is busy and hectic for me right now, and knowing that people like what I'm writing enough to make the effort to comment is a little bright spot in the midst of the chaos. I don't think I'd keep writing right now if I didn't have that motivation, especially with all the misery in the fandom right now.**

**That being said, through the fandom I've made a number of good friends, and I hope that continues even after that show that our OTP is unfortunately on is over.**

**Thank you for all your support!**

* * *

Blaine was having a terrible time, and it was karaoke night. He loved karaoke night. At least he used to. It was the highlight of each week when he had been at the compound for training before. Everyone would get together, sing, applaud his own singing abilities, laugh, eat, and otherwise have a good time. There were social activities every night at the compound, but because he particularly shone when it came to performing, karaoke was supposed to be his night.

He had even looked forward to this particular karaoke night. He was going to sing for Kurt. He was going to impress him. He was going to try to say with song what he failed to with his own words. Tonight was supposed to be the night. Tonight he was going to take the plunge.

Then goat boy had shown up and ruined everything.

"You're awfully sulky…" Sean noted, rolled up beside where Blaine was sitting on one of the couches in the common room with his bed on wheels, taking a pause between each word as he couldn't speak and breathe properly at the same time.

"'m not sulky…" Blaine protested, his logical mind roaring up in the back of his skull that he was just proving that he was by saying as much in the pitiful tone he used to respond to Sean.

"What he needs is a little bit 'o cooch to loosen him up." April, who was sitting beside Blaine on the couch and completely sloshed already, suggested with a wave of the little metal bottle that held whatever putrid smelling drink she was working on.

"'m fine." Blaine insisted, keeping his eyes locked forward on the performance before him, even though it was the last thing he wanted to be watching.

In front of them all, Adam was dancing in place, accompanied by Kurt whom he had asked to join him in a duet first thing that evening. Now they were on duet number three, and for all intents and purposes, Blaine had been forgotten as the group cheered on their new favorite singing duo.

Blaine had even tried to dress nicely for the occasion, or, at least what he hoped Kurt would think would be nice. Black pressed slacks, a burgundy sweater he thought hugged him nicely, and the shiniest shoes he owned.

Kurt meanwhile, was in full "hide the naked wings" mode. He had them pulled over his shoulders, like he used to do back at the farmhouse, but then pulled on a brown cloak that Kurt and Isabelle had worked on together which reminded Blaine of the kind of thing detectives wore in those victorian murder mystery shows his dad used to watch. If someone didn't know Kurt, they might chalk the clothing choice up to a flair for fashion, but Blaine knew better. Kurt had only just begun to get used to having his wings out in front of others, and now they were bald and he was embarrassed by them.

The cloak didn't stop him from grooving in front of everyone, more loose and laid back than Blaine could recall ever seeing Kurt before. Granted, he had never seen Kurt in a group setting like this before either, so it was a new side of Kurt he was watching, one that seemed all too eager to bop along with the other metahuman that had physical traits. The one that Kurt seemed to have bonded with other the past few days because of those traits. The one Blaine couldn't stand.

On his own, Adam was an okay guy. Likable even. Blaine had never taken issue with him before and in the back of his mind, his logical side was trying to tell him there was no reason he should have an issue now. The problem was though that the instant Adam and Kurt introduced themselves to one another, there was a spike of interest out of both of them, particularly bright in Adam, and Blaine didn't like that one bit.

It got worse when Adam weaseled his way into their lunches, movie watching, and ping pong games. Blaine could never seem to get Kurt alone for more than a few minutes before the damned goat boy interfered. He knew that Kurt wasn't his and his alone, but he had gotten used to being the only one that Kurt spent time with, and he was more than aware of the jealousy flaring up inside him.

Now Blaine was suffering through watching Adam and Kurt playfully sing Timber by Ke$ha to the group and it was utterly agonizing to keeping looking at, though he couldn't tear his eyes away if he wanted to. It was like a trainwreck in slow motion, complete with winks from Adam to Kurt who grinned in return as flashes of attraction bounced over their heads unseen by anyone else but Blaine.

There were days he really hated the power he had been saddled with.

Periodically, Kurt would look Blaine's way, and there would be a surge of something else, something that Blaine hadn't seen enough in his life to give a name to with any degree of certainly. Fondness maybe? Brotherly love? Whatever it was, it make Blaine's stomach tighten, wishing that he got the same color spikes that Adam was getting when Kurt looked at him.

"Y'know. If you want to sodomize him, you should just sing to him about it. There's no shortage of songs about butt sex." April said simply, leaning back in place and swinging an arm back behind Blaine.

"What?! I -"

"Oh!" Holly chimed in, sitting on April's other side and currently morphed to look like she was wearing a Lady Gaga meat dress. "Or fellatio! Even more of those songs!"

"Ohmygod." Blaine gasped, going bright red and quickly glancing from Holly to the performers who, thankfully, hadn't heard the comments as they were lost in their own number. "Are you two insane?"

"No. Not drunk enough for that." April muttered, as if that was an issue for her. "But your constant whimpering over bird boy there is going to make me crazy - and not the fun kind either."

"I… I'm not whimpering…" Blaine hissed.

"You may as well be." Sean added in, even adding in a soft sigh at the end of it.

"You know what? I'm going to sign you up for a song!" Holly declared, scampering off to Howard who was taking care of the karaoke machine before Blaine could protest. This could only be trouble. Not only was she going to select something that was probably terribly inappropriate, but it was probably going to be a song he didn't know or didn't have the right voice for. How much worse could the night possibly get?

"Make sure you thank 'er." April said with a smirk as she looked at Blaine's distraught face.

"Why do you guys hate me? Heck, how do you even know about how I feel?" Blaine mumbled, though he wanted to scream.

April made a little snort of amusement. "Don't need emotion powers t' see how you feel about him honey."

"I don't get out much and it's obvious to me even." Sean confirmed.

Blaine just sighed, looking down into his red plastic cup at the root beer within. Maybe he should try something harder. Maybe it would make life easier. Real superheroes had buddies who were focused and helpful. His superpowered colleagues seemed bent on embarrassing him for their own amusement.

"You didn't even pay attention when Sebastian was crooning to you." Sean stated after a moment of quiet between them when April had leaned over to whisper and giggle with Holly upon her return, probably at Blaine's expense.

"Huh?"

"Sebastian. He sang that whole Justin Timberlake song about sexyness to you."

Blaine blinked a few times, trying to think back to a few songs earlier when Sebastian had been up before peeking over to one of the other couches where Sebastian was settled between a couple other meta's staying in the compound. Blaine seemed to recall bits of that song, Sebastian singing just a couple feet in front of him with surges of interest jumping out of him, but, honestly, Blaine had been too busy looking at Kurt and Adam where they had been sitting and chuckling with one another as they picked out the song they were now singing to internalize that Sebastian had been putting on a show for him.

Oh god. He was obvious.

"What did you sign me up for?" Blaine whisper-hissed Holly's way, stressed out about a performance for the first time in his life.

"You'll see!" Holly giggled, April joining in on the apparently funny secret.

Blaine was doomed.

Adam and Kurt finished to rampant applause, bowing for dramatic effect before walking to the table they had been occupying for the evening and laughing as they spoke to one another. Adam's little goat tail wagged where he had cut a hole out of his pants for it to escape and all Blaine wanted to do was chop the damned thing off.

"Alright. Next up. Blaine singing It Was Always You by Maroon 5. Yay." Howard's announcing needed work. He had no emotion no matter what he said in that flat, timid voice of his.

"Aw… you're no fun girl. You picked him a sappy song." April huffed, playfully patting Holly's arm as Blaine stood up. He had heard the song a few times, enough to know he was about to sing a very appropriate song and that given how obvious he'd apparently been when watching Kurt, that everyone would be watching him sing it with either interest or amusement.

Probably the latter.

He purposely avoided looking Kurt's way as he held the mic, palm coating it with sweat already as the beginning tones started coming out of the speaker. Blaine was grateful that the screen would have the lyrics coming up because even though he distinctly recalled singing along with this particular tune in the car on the way to school, he was momentarily lost on how it began.

Just think about Adam Levine, Blaine thought to himself as his mouth opened to recite the first words robotically as he kept his eyes on the screen. If Adam Levine could look good and perform at the same time, Blaine could at least try to do the same. His performance would be an outlier though, devoid of the usual energy and confidence he had. Hell, this would be the first time he had sung a song he didn't know the words to by heart.

He managed to get through the first verse, chastising himself every second for the poor showing he was probably giving the now quiet room when the first words of the second verse came up on the screen.  _Hazel eyes_. That didn't seem right to him, and Blaine looked up for the first time during his bashful performance to lock eyes with Kurt. No. Those eyes definitely weren't hazel. The lyrics came to him then, and with a burst of renewed confidence, Blaine let his voice lift up higher than he had been, replacing hazel with azure and looking at Kurt, just hoping and praying that he wasn't making a complete ass of himself.

Kurt was watching him intently, quiet like the rest of the room, and focused with those rings of purple, blue, and green surrounding him as he looked Blaine's way. It wasn't the interest he had hoped for, the brighter colors that jutted up when Kurt looked at Adam, but at least it wasn't colors of embarrassment or annoyance.

The more Blaine focused on Kurt, the more intensely he sang, ignoring everything and everyone else. Usually he bounced around on whatever stage he had, even if it was just the center floor area like he had here in the compound common room, and made a point to make eye contact with everyone. Not this time though. This time, in order to get through a song that felt very much like the theme song to his being in that moment, he needed to zero in on Kurt. Kurt, whose simple gaze back to him, encouraged Blaine to continue on as he vocally poured out his heart for everyone to see.

This was either going to go well, or go very, very, badly. Blaine knew that if this song didn't do what he hoped, he'd end up hiding in his room until Isabelle gave him some options on where to move to, and looking at Kurt he just couldn't decipher if the song was having an effect one way or the other.

"It was always you…" Blaine belted out, holding the final note for as long as he could to prolong his last moments before he had to face the results. Applause surrounded him, and he could hear whoops and cat calls coming from April and Holly, but Blaine didn't look back as he held the mic out to Howard to collect it for the next performer, keeping his eyes on Kurt and waiting for a reaction.

Kurt stood up slowly, excusing himself from Adam whose own coloring showed Blaine clearly enough that he wasn't thrilled with Blaine's performance - not that Blaine cared. In fact, if he made Adam upset, he was kind of pleased by it. Show goat boy who the real act was around here.

"Can we talk… privately?" Kurt asked, coming up in front of Blaine. Despite dropping his voice to a whisper, Blaine knew everyone was watching and listening in. He was quick to nod, somehow forgetting how to speak as his heart and stomach switched places inside of him and he followed Kurt out of the room and into the hall which sent the room they left behind into rampant whispering and murmurs.

God. If he wanted to talk it couldn't be good. Kurt was going to let him down as easily as he could. It was a gracious act, but, really, Blaine just wanted to get it over with as quickly as he could so he could burrow into his bed and cry like the baby he felt like.

The hallway was too damned long, and by the time Kurt reached the kitchen, where he apparently intended to speak with Blaine, Blaine's heart was racing ridiculously fast where it had settled in his abdomen. His brain was trying to tell him to speak up, say something, plead for forgiveness for being such an ass, but his mouth was dry and cowardly, so Blaine just watched and waited for Kurt to take the lead.

"Blaine… I don't want to guess at what that meant and make a mistake. I'd like to think it was obvious, but, for both our sakes, I want to be sure so neither of us gets embarrassed." Kurt finally said, looking at Blaine intently.

Blaine had to swallow, remind himself that he knew how to talk, and then choked up the words that he could hear himself saying, but didn't recall forming in his mind prior to them escaping, "I… like you Kurt… like…  _like you_  like you…"

The corner of Kurt's mouth twitched up into a half smile, and for a moment Blaine felt hope, though that stupid rational part of his mind was telling him not to get excited. Of course Kurt was smiling, he was getting attention from two guys now and what gay guy didn't want that?

"You know you could have anyone right Blaine? I mean… you could have a normal relationship… with a normal person."

Blaine blinked as he tried to process the meaning behind Kurt's words. What did that even mean? A normal relationship? A normal person? "What?"

"It's… so… sweet that you like me Blaine, but being interested in me doesn't make any sense… I mean… maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but a relationship with me would mean being in hiding all the time, and working around the things on my back. You could be with someone else that's normal and have a real relationship where you didn't have to worry about those kinds of things."

Oh. OH.

"I don't care about that stuff Kurt. I like you… and if you're trying to just let me down gently… don't. Just tell me how you feel one way or the other. I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

At least, he looked like a big boy. At that moment Blaine didn't feel like one. He felt smaller than he usually did, and so in need of a comforting hug from a parent… or at least his old nanny.

Kurt sucked in a breath, shaking his head from side to side slowly and just staring at Blaine with bubbles of disbelief ebbing into his color aura. "What emotion do you see when I look at you Blaine?"

Blaine had to shrug. "Friendliness? I don't know… it's not one… well not one I've seen directed at me before anyhow."

"Where have you see it before?"

The first place Blaine recalled seeing it was in a restaurant. Two people across the table that were looking at one another the whole time they talked and ate. Both of them had it. Then again at a park with a boy looking at a girl. In that case, only the boy had those colors. It wasn't one he saw fighting crime. Certainly not one he saw when he was hanging out with the Warblers. He'd seen it between Kurt and his dad, and Kurt's dad and Carole, and Carole and Finn. "I guess… when people care about one another?"

"You've never had that directed to you before Blaine?"

He shook his head. Never. Not that he'd ever noticed.

"Not by your parents or..?"

"When I started seeing the colors… no… especially not when my parents and I went our separate ways."

"Oh…. god Blaine…" Kurt's hands dove out and wrapped themselves around Blaine then in an unexpected, but certainly welcome, hug. "I thought… I thought you'd see and figure it out."

Blaine tentatively drew his arms around Kurt, wanting to disappear into Kurt's arms where he felt so safe, and so comforted. Regardless of what Kurt was going to say next, Blaine was going to take advantage of the contact being gifted to him. "I need charts to help me figure out basic emotions Kurt… the ones I'm not familiar with… I just don't know… It's nice that you care for me though. I mean… if you think of me as a brother or something though, could you just tell me so I can try and do some damage control after the embarrassing display I put on back there?"

Kurt's little laugh came out with a snort, and Blaine looked at him as confusion settled in. "I don't think of you like a brother Blaine."

"Okay, then what-"

"It's love."

Blaine's eyes stretched open so wide he could feel his brow mash together on his forehead. Making a dramatic reappearance in his chest, his heart started working overtime, making his ribs ache as his lungs held the breath inside them before he remembered that he needed to exhale in order to breath properly.

"I can't believe you couldn't identify that Blaine…"

Kurt's expression was soft, sad… and the admission didn't seem to phase him as much as it did Blaine who was still trying to figure out just how this had happened, and if he had truly done something right.

"Say something."

His adam's apple bobbed heavily in his throat, and Blaine looked over Kurt's face once, twice, three times, just to make sure it was him and not some kind of illusion or dream. "You… do?"

"Yeah."

"But… you've been hanging around with Adam and…."

"Adam is a friend who knows how to compliment me without referring to superheroes Blaine. Plus he understands the whole physical meta characteristics thing… but no, I'm not interested in him that way."

"But-"

Kurt sighed loudly enough to make Blaine pause his speaking, and rolled his eyes. "Despite your dorky interests, the fact that you take off your socks in the living room so they end up under the couch where they fester and smell, and that you enjoy math way too much… yes Blaine. I have developed intense, romantic feelings for you… is that spelled out enough for you?"

"I love you too."

It came out a lot more squeaky sounding than Blaine remembered his voice being, and despite the fact that he wasn't the one admitting his feelings first, he felt timid about saying it.

"I know."

"You know?"

Another chuckled accented by a little snort, "Yeah. You're pretty obvious."

"To everyone but myself apparently…" Blaine sighed, shaking his head and deciding that that moment was as good of a time as any to make a real move, leaning his head up and slowly moving his lips towards Kurt. His eyes snapped up to look for permission from blue eyes, but Kurt didn't give him the second he needed to check because Kurt's lips moved in time with his own and closed the space between them so that Blaine could finally know just how soft Kurt's lips really were on his own.

They're wet, and salty from the popcorn Kurt was eating earlier. Blaine had watched him pop individual puffs into his mouth and chew them one by one in a way that was somehow so proper for eating a treat. Blaine had always been content to grab a handful of popcorn and shovel it into his mouth, thinking nothing of it, but Kurt… Kurt had a way of doing things that always caught Blaine's attention.

The kiss is short lived though as a squeal rises up behind the door, followed by a muffled yelp, and the swing of the kitchen door. They've been followed, spied on, and now found out by god knows who…

Though Blaine wouldn't be surprised to find Isabelle, Holly, and April behind that door.

Kurt is the one who pulls back when they hear the noise, pure irritation and ire rising off of him in a violent change of color scheme around him. He glares at the door, though when Blaine looks that way he can't see anyone, just hears the sound of retreating heels clacking against the floor and girlish giggles.

"They made a bet." Kurt grumbles in annoyance.

"Who did?"

"The girls and Elliott. Apparently Holly won."

Sometimes Blaine forgets that Kurt has better hearing than him. The knowledge makes him chuckle, and shake his head - much less upset at the intervening middle aged women, if only because their shenanigans helped Blaine reach this point. No wonder Holly had picked such an un-Holly-like song for Blaine to sing to Kurt. She usually went for the peppier tunes. It all made sense now, and yet, Blaine couldn't fault her for looking out for her own gambling interests.

"Do you want to… go back to the common room or karaoke or…." Blaine uttered, speaking to Kurt's lips. Funny how he had only been briefly connected to them for a moment and now he felt like he had an addiction to them.

"No."

Thank god.

"If we go back now we'll just end up being the center of attention for all the most ridiculous of reasons… actually, I've been meaning to ask you…"

"Yeah?" Blaine remembered to lift his eyes up. Make eye contact, that's what they teach you to do in order to be polite…

"My wings have been itching like crazy. I think it's from covering them up with this fabric… would you mind…?"

Kurt didn't have to finish, nor did he even really have to ask. "Of course…."

The cloak was pulled up and off, Kurt's face turning adorably red as he exposed his bald wings and turned his back to Blaine - who was used to seeing them like this after the past few days. His hands moved of their own volition, reaching out to wrap around the fleshy limbs before remembering he was supposed to be dealing with an itch and not massaging out tension. His gently ran his fingernails over them then, earning a groan of appreciation from Kurt which made every part of of Blaine perk up and twitch.

"So… uh… are we...?"

"You really want to be a we Blaine? My wings…."

His wings. His beautiful wings. Even now, without their feathers, there was something so amazing about them - and Blaine, and only Blaine, was the one Kurt trusted and felt safe with touching them.

"I don't want normal Kurt. I want you."

"Are you sure?"

Disbelief, uncertainty, and that now redefined swath of color, love, blended around Kurt. Love directed at him no less. Adam may have gotten interest, but Blaine got love. A win for Blaine.

"Of course I'm sure. Why don't you think I'm sure? I know I can be an idiot about some things… but Kurt... "

"I know, I know… for whatever reason, my wings aren't a problem for you."

"Just the opposite in fact." Blaine asserted, moving his fingers up and down with little scritches to try and help Kurt's itch issue. Periodically he'd be rewarded with a moan or a grunt, and that kept him motivated.

"So then… yeah. I think… we can be a we…"

Relief. That's what washed through Blaine as he momentarily forgot his work and squeezed the soft part around the high joints of Kurt's wings. "Really?"

Kurt peeked over his shoulder, cheekbones rusted with blush as he looked to Blaine and smiled. "Yeah. I'd… like that a lot."

Blaine managed to stop himself from making little kicky-feet and squealing in glee. His first boyfriend. Hopefully his only one. He couldn't imagine feeling the way he felt about Kurt for anyone else. For once he was glad his parents weren't in the picture to dismiss his affections for someone else the way his friends at school had complained their parents had when they had begun dating. Apparently the love teenagers felt wasn't the same as "real love" or some other nonsense that the parents believed, even though a couple Warblers noted how hypocritical that was since their parents had been high school sweethearts.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"I'm counting on it." Kurt uttered, still looking back at Blaine who took a second to realize that meant now. Again he surged forward, this time not waiting for permission as he connected his lips and Kurt's, and shut his eyes so he could completely drown himself in the feeling of wet, plush lips working against one another.

Still salty, Kurt's lips pressed back against his own, and Blaine held in his breath as a tongue flicked out and ran against the seam of his lips from Kurt's mouth, somehow willing them to part so he could taste the mocha Kurt had been sipping on all evening where it hadn't left the buds on his tongue. No one had ever given Blaine a lesson about how to kiss, and it certainly wasn't something he had come across in a how-to article, yet he innately seemed to be able to do it, or at least know how it should go.

Or maybe his lips were just meant to be on Kurt's.

This time there was no interruptions, and so they could just languidly explore each other's mouths. Kurt turned slowly in place, so he didn't have to strain his neck, and Blaine adjusted his hands as the turn was made so he could still keep them on the arms of Kurt's wings, though switched from scratching to stroking them over gently.

That was when Kurt made a small hiss and jerked back. Blaine was sure he had done something wrong, but wasn't sure what. Had he accidently placed his tongue too far into Kurt's mouth? Did he have a sharp tooth that Kurt had cut his tongue on? Did his mouth taste horrible?

"My… wings…"

Blaine blinked, taking a moment to remember where his hands had settled and looked down at them. Tiny little bumps were protruding from where he had been rubbing over Kurt's wings, and only now did he register them.

"Did I… do something…?"

Kurt shook his head, glancing down at Blaine's hand too. "No… they…"

The uncertainty was hovering around Kurt again, and this time Blaine knew it wasn't because of him. He knelt down and examined the spots where his hands had settled on Kurt and cocked his head to one side as a toothy grin overcame him. "Kurt… your wings… you have quills growing back in…"

"My feathers?"

"Yeah. They're coming back. That's probably why they're itchy… it's probably like waxing or tweezing hair and then it having to poke through the skin…."

"My feathers are coming back…" Kurt echoed, and then bounced on his toes in celebration. "I never thought I'd be happy to see them again!"

"You'll be able to fly again." Blaine said with a chuckle, standing back up and moving his hands to Kurt's waist without thinking, and blushing when he realized he had made such an intimate move.

"I won't look like a pink bat!" Kurt laughed, setting his own hands on Blaine's waist in return without pause. It only made Blaine uncomfortable for a moment as he sucked in whatever bit of paunch he had, then he was sure his stomach was blushing underneath his clothing.

"You don't look that bad…" Blaine murmured, bringing his eyes back to Kurt's.

"But I must look somewhat bad if I'm not THAT bad." Kurt said, twisting Blaine's words around in a way that Blaine was sure only his mother knew how to do.

"You look devastatingly handsome no matter what."

That made Kurt blush, and Blaine grinned to himself as he rendered Kurt,  _ **his boyfriend**_ , speechless. "Do you want me to keep scratching them or-"

"Oh god yes." Kurt quickly said, wings spreading outwards to each of Blaine's side in offering. "Kissing is wonderful, but they are damned itchy."

"We could… ah… do both?"

Red, purple, blue, green. A mischievous smile on Kurt's lips, and a twinkle in blue-green eyes.

"Yeah. Let's go to your room."


	9. Chapter 9

**I apologize for missing last week. Believe me, it's not because I didn't want to write. My computer is with Apple getting fixed, I definitely don't have time to write at school, and my ipad is being used to write nonsense for my master's course. Not writing is actually stressing me out because it's a source of stress relief for me. I also feel the need to make updates in a timely manner and missing the previous week (when I'm already used to updating more than once a week with other fics), makes me feel like I'm not meeting my own standards.**

**That being said, I didn't get as many reviews on the last chapter (overall between sites), so I'm thinking my readership has dropped anyhow. Hopefully those of you who are hanging tight with will forgive me for my current state of sucking. Love you all.**

* * *

Kurt had a difficult time focusing on his writing when, beside him, making a queasy gurgling noise, was the aqueous blob of Dr. Ryan. The first time Kurt had seen him in his liquid state, it had been awe inspiring, and he finally understood how people might perceive himself with his wings given how cool it was to see someone literally melt before his eyes. The second time, Kurt still thought it was nifty, but didn't pay it as much mind.

By the fifth time, this time, it was irritating. Not because of the fact that Dr. Ryan could melt, but because of what he did when he was in his slimey state.

"You misspelled oblivious." Spoke the lips that floated on top of the pasty beige and brown goo set on the table beside Kurt's computer, eyeballs drifting beside them and pointing in the direction of the screen.

"Yeah… thanks." Kurt grumbled, backspacing to fix the word and losing his train of thought in the process.

"I can't believe people will actually buy and read this nonsense."

"It's fashion…" Kurt uttered by way of an explanation, gazing vacantly at the monitor as he forgot what he was about to type.

"It's no wonder magazines and newspapers are written for a sixth grade reading level. It's all dribble."

Bringing his thumb and middle finger up to the bridge of his nose, Kurt wished that by pinching there, as he was he, could alleviate the throbbing ache growing in his temples. Dr. Ryan needed to reduce himself to his amalgamous form for a couple hours a day in order to be able to relax. Apparently it took more work to keep himself solid than it was to keep him liquid, and, for whatever reason, he like to hang out in the library when he was in that form.

Which meant that when Kurt was trying to keep up with his fashion blog, Dr. Ryan was right there, giving Kurt his two cents even though Kurt would happily pay him to be left alone. He had Blaine to check his word over before he posted it anyhow. He didn't need a third person, who clearly didn't appreciate his work, much less the fashion industry.

Kurt rolled his lower lip in between his teeth at the thought of Blaine, nibbling lightly along his already swollen and kiss bruised flesh. It was probably all in his head, but he was sure he could still taste Blaine on his mouth - all cuminic and buttery despite the fact that Blaine had brushed his teeth just before their morning make out session. He hadn't, however, shaved the stubble off his face, leaving Kurt with red, prickled skin and a blush whenever he saw someone looking at him like they knew exactly why his cheeks and jaw looked like they did.

Making out had become something of an addiction. As soon as he woke up in the morning, Kurt was sneaking off to Blaine's room to wake him up with his lips. They kissed until their lips went numb and then they just laid beside one another, staring with sap filled eyes at the other until one of them broke the silence by giggling.

Then they were back at it.

Eventually they'd drag themselves apart, shower and get ready for the day, before meeting back up in the cafeteria where they played footsie under the tables and were the target of annoyed groans by those around them who seemed to be tired of their lovesick behaviour already. It didn't stop them though. Their senses were attuned to one another and each other only. Nothing was going to penetrate that.

At least until Isabelle smacked Kurt with the latest issue of Vogue on her latest visit to the compound.

"You're ignoring the blog! You need to write that thing or I'll have to take you off the site!"

So Kurt made a decided effort to separate himself from Blaine each afternoon to research and write on the blog, while Blaine filled up his afternoon with crime fighting runs to nearby towns and cities.

Kurt had made a new costume for Blaine, one that was more functional than that old one. It was much less flashy, but much more appropriate for what Blaine could do, plus Kurt had worked in kevlar to add a layer of protection in the outfit.

"I'm going to need a new name…" Blaine had grunted as he stood still while Kurt pinned and made adjustments on the costume around him.

"Invest in a thesaurus if you're planning another homage to a superhero in your comic books…" Kurt suggested before biting down on a pin as he went about adjust a different pin into the grey material of Blaine's pants.

"No.. I think you guys were all right before. I need to come up with something uniquely me…. is this all going to be so drab colored?"

Kurt didn't answer immediately, having to wait until he could pull the pin from his mouth. "The jacket will be a burgundy brown."

"You really hated my last costume huh?"

"It had a cape Blaine. Didn't you ever watch The Incredibles? Capes are a bad idea."

"You actually watched a superhero show?!"

"No. I watched an animated feature. It's different."

"Kurt Hummel watched a superhero show… wait until I tell everyone…"

Looking upwards from where he was kneeling, Kurt shot Blaine his best glare, complete with wrinkled up nose and furrowed brows. The look was apparently enough to draw down Blaine's smile, which flatlined as his eyes went wide. "... or I won't."

"Damn right you won't."

"So tell me about the features of this Kurt Hummel original."

It was a good change of topic as Kurt rambled on about the layer of protection he had in the fabric which was still thin enough that Blaine would be able to do all his jumps and tumbles and karate with ease. He still had a mask around his eyes, even though he had been publicly outed as a metahuman now, just because Kurt thought it made his gorgeous caramel eyes pop. The jacket was both for function, with small pockets on the inside for Blaine to store a variety of necessities, and lined arms for keeping warm when Kurt carried Blaine while flying, and for style - a veritable knockoff of a Christian Dior jacket that Kurt had always loved.

Throughout his explanation, Blaine just smiled and nodded, looking at Kurt with that now familiar twinkle in his eyes. It was the kind of look that made Kurt blush brightly whenever he saw it, and he had just learned to glance away when he picked up on it in public to avoid people thinking that Blaine had just said something suggestive - as April had implied on more than one occasion when it had happened before.

"You sure you don't want to come? You don't need to write everyday…" Blaine had asked him before he left on this particular afternoon after they had pried themselves off one another in Kurt's bed.

"My feathers are still growing back.. I only have quills." Kurt had murmured as he stared at Blaine's lips hungrily.

"You have lots of other capabilities Kurt." Blaine had countered.

"It's okay. You have fun with the rest of the guys. It's good for us to have some time apart anyhow… makes me appreciate you all the more when you're back."

Eventually Kurt's feathers would grow back though, and eventually he'd have to tell Blaine the truth. He didn't want to fight anymore. As it was he still woke up in sweat slicked sheets with his heart racing uncontrollably as his unconscious mind went back to the day he was beaten. He had failed as a crime fighter, and he didn't have the heart to jump back into that life. He had only survived by dumb luck and Blaine being there in the nick of time. One wrong move or one minute later and he would have been a corpse on the ground that would have been recovered by the government and used as an example of what happens to metahumans. His dad would have to live with the images they'd put on TV forever, and he'd never have been able to tell Blaine how he felt.

He couldn't risk it again.

So he wrote instead, hoping to improve that particular ability so that he could make a living at it one day. It was a sensical path after all - he'd be able to do it from home, could communicate digitally, and keep his own hours. If Blaine insisted on crime fighting wherever they ended up, Kurt could sleep with him during the day and write at night when he went out. Their lives could align.

"I really don't think every young modern man needs a striped tie."

Dr. Ryan's voice broke Kurt out of his trance. He rolled his eyes and gave his head a small shake. "You know you don't have to read what I'm writing."

"Believe me. It's for your own benefit that I help you."

Kurt needed his own laptop.

"You know what? I think I've got some writer's block…" Kurt uttered as he saved what he had and exited out of the program. "... think I'll get a snack."

He left the pile of goop that comprised Dr. Ryan without another word, not even stopping to push his chair back in as he left in haste and went to the cafeteria. Kurt was going to have to find a different time to write because he certainly wasn't going to be able to tolerate having Dr. Ryan look over his shoulder, or under it as the case was.

The cafeteria had a few occupants, one of which was Adam who waved Kurt over once Kurt had grabbed a premade salad. Adam had been nice enough about the whole karaoke night incident, being gentlemanly enough to congratulate Kurt on his new relationship status and even going so far as to tell Blaine that he got 'one hell of a catch'. Kurt knew that Adam liked him a fair bit more than he liked Adam, and was grateful that Adam was mature enough about his feelings to not make it an issue. Kurt needed friends, and Adam knew what it was like to have to hide physical features that outed one as a metahuman.

"Let me guess. Dr. Ryan." Adam said with a short chuckle as Kurt sat across from him.

"Yeah…" Kurt tipped his head to the side. "How did you know?"

"I've tried writing letters to my family from the library a couple times when he was there. Absolutely infuriating."

They laughed, talked for a moment longer about Dr. Ryan, and then Adam told Kurt about his family back in England. He was the youngest of seven, and all were close in age. He spoke with delight at how he had always had playmates at home, and also how the older siblings would also be like little parents. When Adam began to change at puberty, it was his older siblings that had hid him. At first from his parents, and then at school. They had fitted him with shoes that clipped onto the hooves he had formed, helped tape his tail down each day, and buffed down his horns so they hid under carefully styled hair. It was so familiar to Kurt, and it made him think of his dad and how he had helped him with his wings each morning,.

"Heard anything yet from your father?" Adam asked when he noticed Kurt had gone into his own world of thought.

Kurt shook his head. Holly had gone out to his dad's auto shop under the guise of needing an oil change and left him with some information on how to contact Kurt through an email they had set up for him at the compound. Apparently he was quite relieved to hear that Kurt was alright after what he had seen on the news about the attack, but also upset that Kurt had been engaged in that risky business to begin with.

"Must be worried about being watched I'll bet." Adam noted, clearly trying to put Kurt at ease, "Took awhile before my family were able to contact me."

Kurt nodded stiffly, looking down at his hands which he had woven together by the fingers. "I give him too much stress…"

"Not your fault though. He'll know that."

It was small comfort, and until Kurt actually got a message from his dad, it was a thought that would nag him in the back of his mind. Thankfully, with his budding romance, his mind was preoccupied now most of the time with the most indecent of thoughts. If Kurt thought his fantasies about Blaine when they weren't together were blush-worthy, they were nothing compared to the images that slid through his brain now when they were lip locked.

One of the benefits of the compound was its size and amenities. Once Kurt finished up lunch with Adam, he was able to work out in a weight room, then catch up on some shows in the common room, and finally relax in the spa room which had a sizable hot tub. Whatever or whomever funded the league, Kurt needed to make sure he thanked them for all the creature comforts available if and when he ever got the chance.

Blaine returned later that same evening, laughing down the corridors with the others that had gone on the trip out with him, including Sebastian whose smile reminded Kurt's of a snake. That boy looked at Blaine much too much for Kurt's liking, and Kurt wished he could read emotions the way Blaine could because he was sure he'd be able to read whatever emotions lined up with 'malicious man whore' over Sebastian.

Thankfully, Blaine became oblivious to Sebastian the instant he saw Kurt down the hall, and before the minute they met back up was up, they were scurrying off to Kurt's room to refamiliarize their lips until it was time for bed.

That was the point when Kurt would take care of all the dirty thoughts that had accumulated in his mind throughout the day, tossing their sum product into the wastebasket on a kleenex and curling up to sleep.

Except that particular night he couldn't. He heard the faint sounds of whimpering and crying, and knew exactly where they were coming from once he attuned his senses to pinpoint the source. It wasn't the first time he had heard Blaine having a nightmare, but it was the first time he had heard it since they had declared themselves an item, and so Kurt found himself sneaking into Blaine's room and kneeling by the bedside to gently pat Blaine on the shoulders to rouse him. He looked adorable in his weathered Batman pajamas, well faded and used, making him look even more compact than he already was curled up in the fetal position with the occasional little kick out at the blankets that had gathered at the end of the bed.

"Blaine... wake up... nightmare... Oh!"

Fear gripped Kurt and he gripped Blaine by the shoulder without meaning to as it swept through him to his core, making his spine tense and his limbs shiver. He didn't know why he was afraid, he just knew it was all consuming and the urge to curl up into his own ball on the floor was overwhelming. He couldn't focus his eyes, nor stop his heart from trying to escape his chest, all he could do was utter the smallest of squeaks.

Then, as quickly as it had taken him, the fear and panic left, and his body relaxed and drooped, so exhausted by the rapid change in his system. Blaine was sitting up now, and Kurt wasn't sure how he had missed that in the moment, but his eyes were wide and set on Kurt, as were his hands to each of Kurt's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry... so sorry Kurt. I didn't mean to... my dream..."

Kurt understood right away. Whatever Blaine had been dreaming about, the fear within it had projected onto Kurt.

"It's okay..." Kurt stammered, inwardly telling his heart to settle down as the last reminder of the scare to his body. "... but are you okay?"

Blaine nodded dejectedly, looking down to his lap as his hands fell off Kurt's shoulders, "Yeah... just... nightmares sometimes..."

Kurt crept up, sitting beside Blaine in the bed and slinging an arm around his waist. "Hey. It's alright. I get them too."

To that, Blaine nodded again. "I know. I've heard you... since the attack..."

Kurt swallowed hard. It was one thing to know that you had nightmares, it was another thing entirely to know that someone else knew you had them. He felt like some secret of his had been exposed, and yet, with Blaine he expected it. "Am I noisy?"

Blaine shook his head. "No... I mean, you were right after the attack. Now you cry out a lot... but it settles down." His head bounced up again, locking his eyes back on Kurt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to feel that... I-"

"Hey, hey..." Kurt cooed, reaching up to brush his hand through Blaine's freed curls, purposely putting the information about his own nightmare behavior to the back of his mind for the moment. Blaine was the priority right then. ".. it's okay. I get it. You didn't mean to."

"It's not okay Kurt... I don't even like doing it to people who deserve it, let alone people I care about. It's why when you were crying and hurt I didn't make you feel calm and content... I could have you know... but there's a line... and if I cross it, for even the most well meaning of things, how could I ever expect you to trust me again? How could you ever know for sure what you're feeling is really what you do feel and not what I'm making you feel..."

It was just like something out of one of Blaine's comic books - which Kurt would never admit that he had been reading while Blaine had been at school when he had been really bored. Some self proclaimed, fundamental axiom. Like Batman refusing to kill the Joker no matter what kind of harm he caused, no matter what he destroyed, or who he killed. Killing the Joker would make Batman as bad as the villains he fought, and would take justice out of the hands of the people. Part of Kurt understood Blaine's reasoning, the other part just wondered if there was a need for such a principle in the real world.

"I'm okay Blaine, and I trust you... Do you want to talk about your dream?" Kurt finally settled on saying, his hand moving down from Blaine's curls to rub small circles on his back over his cotton pajamas.

Blaine was quick to shake his head no, looking back at his lap. "I... I will tell you Kurt... just... not now... would you... stay and cuddle me?"

Just as quickly as Blaine's head had looked to his lap, it was up again, eyes pleading for Kurt to stay. Kurt glanced around the small room, fitted with the identical single sized bed Kurt had in his own room that he had to negotiate with each evening to fit himself and his wings into, though the latter always ended up erupting over the room by the time he awoke. Two people in a single bed... one of them who had wings, well... what was Kurt supposed to say if he was being logical?

"Of course."

Blaine beamed like no one else could and crawled back into the bed, pressing himself back against the wall and holding an arm open for Kurt to crawl into. "I've always wanted to cuddle into your wings."

Kurt rolled his eyes playfully, carefully wedging himself on what was left of the bed with his wings between them both. He could feel Blaine wrapping an arm over them, almost able to reach for Kurt's waist, and then he was quiet, breathing in the scent of Kurt's quills and promptly coughing thereafter.

"Okay... I might get smothered like this... maybe when we have a bigger bed." Blaine admitted, prompting Kurt to laugh and blush with the mention of them getting a shared bed one day. He rolled himself over, giving permission for his wings to hang off the bed for that night only, and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist as Blaine turned towards the wall to be the little spoon.

"Mmm... I could get used to this." Blaine murmured, wiggling back against Kurt who had to grit his teeth. The last thing he needed was to get an erection when he was trying to make Blaine feel like he was safe and secure.

"Here... best of both worlds..." Kurt whispered, bringing his higher wing up and over Blaine as a blanket. It disgusted Kurt to see his own wings in their current unfeathered state, but Blaine seemed to still like them, and he was trying to soothe Blaine after all.

"Oh... yeah..."

Blaine curled himself up in the offered wing, sighing blissfully towards the wall as Kurt adjusted his hip into a position where he might be able to sleep comfortably for a time. It was made difficult though by Blaine's own shifting, which increasingly was against Kurt.

"Oh!"

Kurt bit down on his lower lip so as not to break the skin, but to try and hold back the fury of red in his face that Blaine couldn't even see. So much pressure against him, so much Blaine right there, and, well, the inevitable occurred.

"Sorry..."

Blaine chuckled gently, "Honestly, I'm just glad to know you're not build like a bird down there too."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt cocked an eyebrow and looked down at himself, trying to will away the erection in his pants. Now was not the time.

"Male birds aren't exactly equipped the same way humans are. They -"

"Lalala." Kurt broke in. He didn't want to hear it. It was bad enough that he was forever being compared to birds and angels, but he didn't want to know all their nitty gritty details. As far as Kurt was concerned, he was a winged human with his own set of qualities that didn't need to be contrasted against other species.

Blaine chuckled again at Kurt's reaction, turning his head over his shoulder to share a toothy grin. "I'm just saying... it's okay."

Again Kurt was inclined to roll his eyes, not bothering to ask Blaine why he had been concerned about whether or not he was "equipped", and if he wasn't, if that was going to be okay with Blaine. Certainly his feather fetish couldn't extend to that level of accommodation.

"Good night Blaine."

"Night Kurt."

It took awhile for Kurt to fall asleep. He listened to Blaine's breaths become softer and more prolonged, and then felt, with absolute enthral, Blaine's body soft against his own. If this was what sleeping beside someone was like, Kurt could certainly get used to it, though a larger bed was certainly in order.

When morning did come, Kurt found himself face to face with Blaine, who was staring at him with the most dopey grin imaginable. Surely he couldn't have been watching Kurt sleep, but then...

"Morning beautiful."

Kurt groaned and brought a hand up to hide his face, "No. I'm all disheveled and have stubble and morning breath..."

"And you still take my breath away." Blaine uttered, reaching up with a hand of his own to pull away Kurt's and kiss him until dreams were forgotten and his lips were raw.

It was Kurt who plucked them apart, citing the need for a good shower and a fix to his growling stomach. The compound had communal bathrooms, much to Kurt's disgust, but at least the showers were big and cleaned regularly. The last time Kurt had been in a communal shower was when his dad had the bright idea to take him camping and Kurt had been sickened by the large clumps of hair, nail clippings, and other remnants of people who had showered before him in the showers at the campsite. Needless to say, it was the first and last trip Burt had taken Kurt on that didn't include room service.

They showered in adjacent stalls, Blaine singing as he cleaned himself with Kurt occasionally chiming in. Bubbles littered the ground around his toes, which Kurt also spent some time filing down the nails of, along with his fingernails, lest they grow too long into talons. He didn't need any other reason to be compared to a bird. When he came out, a good while after Blaine had finished, steam swept out along with him and towards Blaine who was already dressed and hair gelled, waiting for Kurt as he leaned against the wall opposite the shower.

Kurt tried not to look surprised, though he knew Blaine would probably see the yellow and pink around him that would give him away, and tightened his grip on the towel around his waist. "Need something?"

"Yeah. My boyfriend." Blaine chirruped, eyeing Kurt up and down without any subtlety. He looked hungry at first, like he was going to pounce Kurt and eat him up, but then his eyes widened and he took a couple steps towards Kurt with those saucer eyes locked on his wings.

"What... is it?" Kurt queried, turning his head to try and look at what Blaine was.

"Feathers... but..." Blaine pointed and Kurt brought that part of his wing up into his sights.

Black feathers.

"Oh... I... don't know?" Kurt uttered. The feathering was slight, the first of any to show in the regrowth.

"When they came in the first time were they black?"

Kurt shook his head. He remembered when he got his first feathers - white as snow.

"Well... maybe it's just a rogue one... like your first gray hair."

"Blaine Anderson..." Kurt tucked his wing back into place. "... You have another thing coming if you think I will allow my hair to go gray."

Blaine smiled up at Kurt, but Kurt knew he wasn't convincing. He didn't know why having a black feather would upset him... but it was. He might not have liked his white feathers, but at least they were familiar.

"Guys!" Another metahuman burst into the doors, prompting Kurt to yelp and ensure his towel was still securely around his hips. "You need to come check the news! Now!"

With that, the door swung back and forth as the guy, Kurt thought his name was Nick, rushed back out. He could hear him yelling down the corridors, and could also hear the murmurings of all the metahumans in range of his ears in the compound moving towards the common room. One look towards Blaine, and a shared raised eyebrow, and both of them were heading out with Kurt taking a detour to throw on some clothing in his room while Blaine went ahead.

The common room was packed. There were some forty metahumans living at or visiting the compound currently, and they were all in the room, eyes glued to the television. Kurt stepped in quietly, joining Blaine's side who was also just as entranced by the screen.

_"... the resolution was passed today by only one vote, and while it is a temporary measure, it has clearly identified the pro-meta and anti-meta nations. Immediately after the vote, anti-meta nations accused pro-meta nations of harboring metahumans and using them as anti-war deterrents. Meanwhile, pro-meta nations are calling into question human rights and whether or not metahumans should be given the same human rights as their evolutionary parents. The real surprise today though was the video posted on what is being called an anti-human website, The Metahuman Alliance, in which their leader called the resolution an act of war against metahumans and called upon all metahumans to rise up against the human countries that voted for the resolution. Already we're seeing protests in New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Atlanta..."_

Images flashed over the screen. Originally politicians in suits arguing at the United Nations convention, and then images of protesters, carrying signs that ranged from the benign "We have rights too!" to the more shocking "Death to humans!". Then there was the real chaos. Reports on human hostages being taken by metahumans in different cities and of different nations with one singular demand - human rights for all humans, meta or not. Some of the hostage taking was professional, others... not so much. There were already people dying, images of bodies with a metahuman who could control fire laughing over them in the Middle East. In China, a metahuman who could shoot spikes out of her hands had struck down a whole gathering of women at a church before being taken down by the military. Even the countries that had voted against the resolution were affected. Just north of the border, in Toronto, a boy no older than Kurt was tossing spheres of green into the street which exploded on impact. The world had succumbed to insanity.

"Oh my god Blaine..." Kurt whispered, eyes just as stuck on the screen now. It was horrible what he was looking at, but he couldn't seem to tear himself away. The only other part of him that moved, aside from his lips, was his hand which sought out Blaine's and squeezed it tightly.

"There'll be no point in fighting crime now." Sebastian said calmly, a couple people away from Kurt and Blaine. "We're going to be fighting to stay alive."


	10. Chapter 10

**Once again, thank you all for your patience when it has come to this fic. For those of you that follow me on tumblr know it's been a busy and rough week for me. I had my anniversary, was on the road for Canadian Thanksgiving, and then lost a student that has been in my life for several years now. On top of it all, work has only gotten busier.**

**It may sound like sap to you all, but honestly, a lot of you keep me going with your consistent feedback and support. Writing is what I love to do, and it gives me an outlet to put my emotions into. As such, by reading whatever I manage to dredge up, you're all my counsellors. Feel free to go all Freud on me.**

**Much love to you all. Thank you for keeping me motivated.**

* * *

A red banner with bold black text sat at the top of the television screen:  **WARNING! LIVE FOOTAGE MAY BE DISTURBING FOR SOME VIEWERS**. It squatted atop the gruesome and devastating images, refusing to leave, unconcerned about what was underneath it, oblivious to the blood and bodies that were a much deeper red, and the auras of the people still alive.

In the common room, some people were dead silent, glued to the broadcast much like Blaine was. Others were talking rapidly, panicked and upset, trying to figure out what their next move was - and if there even was a next move. Then there was Kurt, saying something to Blaine that he just couldn't process with the overwhelming glow of emotions everywhere that overstimulated his senses. There was a lot of yellow and red. So much fear. It wasn't just from the people in the room, or the victims being shown on the news, but also the metahumans retaliating. They were just as scared and upset as the people they were hurting and killing. Their fear had brought them to that point, and if there was one thing Blaine understood about fear, it was that it was contagious.

"Uh... Dr. Ryan...?" Howard said, so monotone still despite the buzz of the crowd swarmed all by him. If it wasn't for the similar scared hues over his own body, Blaine would think he was unconcerned by the news.

"What Howard?" The doctor hissed, hands wrapped around the handle of Sean's bed on wheels, white knuckled and fingers melding into one another as he struggled to hold his solid form.

Howard glanced to the screen of the computer he seemed perpetually bound to. The only one in the common room, yet undeniably his the way he attached himself to it. "I... went into the cellular texts of congress... out of curiosity..."

That got a few more people's attention, Blaine and Kurt's included as they were closer to Howard, and he continued. "The president is about to have an emergency press conference followed up by an emergency meeting of the executive."

"About what?" Dr. Ryan growled, irritation all over him as he glanced back and forth between the television and Howard.

"Well...-"

"Breaking news. We now go live to Capitol Hill where the President of the United States is about to address the country."

All eyes went back to the screen, and the red header at the top of the screen disappeared as the president came into focus on screen, walking up to a podium and gripping the sides of it for support. He looked like he wasn't ready for whatever it was he was about to say, and nervousness spun off him in webs of blue, yellow, and green.

"My fellow Americans. We are undeniably in a state of emergency."

"No shit Sherlock." Holly grumbled from where she was situated on the couch, shaking her head in disbelief.

"The metahuman crisis has reached a tipping point, and how we act in the next days will determine our survival as a species on this planet. The enemy would have us lay down, submit to their evolved genetics, and allow ourselves to be slaves to their whims. This can not be the case. Since our rise as a country, we have fought back against those that would seek to rule us, and today, I am telling you all, we will fight again. We will not be killed, enslaved, or ruled by the metahumans."

Murmurs could not only be heard in the crowd gathered before the president as he spoke, but within the common room. Some people snapped at the screen as if the man on there could hear their protests. Some swore under their breath. All became tenser with each new word that came out of the man's mouth.

"To this end, I am evoking Article 1, Section 9 of the United States Constitution -"

"Oh fuck." Dr. Ryan proclaimed, making the tension level in the room spike even more.

"- The suspension of habeas corpus due to the need for public safety. I am declaring martial law. The United States military will be rooting out the insurgent metahumans by all means necessary, and, within the next 48 hours, there will be mandatory testing of all individuals within United States borders to determine if they are metahuman or not. My hope is that this action will be temporary, and that once we have secured our country, we will be able to continue on as a glorious country, the best in the world. To this end, I am asking all metahumans, registered or not, to turn themselves into the authority for immediate processing. Those found harboring metahumans will find themselves prosecuted. Aiding and abetting metahumans in any way will also be considered grounds for incarceration. The United Nations resolution passed earlier today, while temporary, supports this action by recognizing that metahumans are dangerous and unpredictable, and ultimately a threat to the safety and security of the people. They are terrorists in our midst, and we can not let them destroy what we have worked for centuries to build up. Prior to this address, I also authorized the increase of guards at the borders. They will not be permitted to escape into Canada or Mexico, nor will we be allowing them into our borders from those locations. Airline travel is currently suspended until we can ensure it is safe from metahuman interference. Again. If you or a loved one is a metahuman, the best course of action is to turn yourself or your loved one in, otherwise you all face penalties. If necessary, citizens may defend themselves from the metahuman threat by any means necessary…"

The president continued on, but by that point, the voices in the common room were so loud that Blaine couldn't make out his words. People were screaming, crying, demanding to know what they were supposed to do, and the hand around Blaine's just got tighter and tighter.

"What are we going to do Blaine…?"

Blaine swallowed deeply, peeling his eyes off the screen for the first time since he entered the room to look at Kurt, blue eyes so wide and rimmed with red, threatening to tear up. He didn't have the answer to this. It was nothing that had ever been planned for or discussed. He knew things were bad in some areas, but he didn't realize until this point just how bad they were, and he had managed to remain blissfully ignorant of the resolution debate in the United Nations with the aid of Kurt's lips. Now Kurt was looking to him for answers, and he had none to give.

"Howard. Every metahuman you know of. Wipe them off the map!" Dr. Ryan snapped then above the roar of the crowd.

"What?!"  
"What do you mean?"  
"How…?"

Howard just nodded Dr. Ryan's way, typing madly and humming to himself in that irritating way he had when he was focusing on something. Screens and text flashed across the screen so quickly that Blaine couldn't see what was on them as Howard worked furiously to erase their social security numbers, identification records, school transcripts, and anything else that would be proof of their existence.

"If you don't exist…" Dr. Ryan began explaining to the protestors. "... then they can't seek you out for testing."

"But… what about school? Family? Jobs?"

"None of that matters right now. Right now is about surviving whatever hell is about to rain down on our kind."

"Oh god Blaine… my family…" Kurt squeaked, hand still firmly gripped around Blaine's. "... I…. my dad….."

That's when the tears surfaced in Kurt's eyes and that was when Blaine pulled Kurt in against him to hold him closely as Kurt had done so many times for him. Howard was erasing their existence… meaning none of them would exist except in memories. For Blaine, that was hardly a concern, but for many people in the room, it was.

"You just can't erase us without reason!" Sebastian snapped.

"Howard's only erasing your existence digitally Sebastian. You'll be erased off the planet entirely if the military gets to you." Dr. Ryan snapped right back.

"We don't know that…" Adam offered, uncertainty hovering over him like a cloud.

"We can't risk it."

That was the catalyst to remind everyone they had legs, and people starting moving in all directions and talking loudly as they did. There was talk of fleeing to Canada, going underground, and even preparing themselves to fight - all of which muted Dr. Ryan who just looked down at the floor resignedly.

Blaine continued to hold onto Kurt, who looked up at him with tear glossed irises as he spoke quietly. "Could we escape somewhere?"

Blaine pulled his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it there thoughtfully as he tried to think, tried to come up with something to calm his boyfriend. "Maybe Canada… but if the border really is guarded that well… I don't know."

"Is it safe to stay here?"

Blaine thought for a second, and finally he knew an answer for sure. "Right now. Yeah. I think it's the best solution."

At some point the presidential address had ended because the screen was again filled with images of destruction, and scrolling text at the bottom of the screen was summarizing what had been said:  _U.S.A. under martial law. Airplanes grounded until further notice. All citizens to be tested for metahuman gene. Metahumans to submit to authorities under penalty of incarceration._

People were leaving the common room now. Some declared that they needed to pack up and leave, needed to see their families, even though the threat to them and their loved ones had been made quite clear in the presidential address. Others were going to make a run for the border while there still might be time to. Canada was facing its own share of metahuman problems, but they hadn't, at least not yet, brought down the force of the military to address the situation, so there was still a hope that refugee metahumans might be able to live there.

Blaine eventually submitted to the flood of bodies, leaving the common room with Kurt bound to his side in the wave that led out to the hallways. People were going to their rooms to pack up, or just go to bed to try and forget the changes that were occurring over their heads.

Except those changes didn't go away.

Kurt fell asleep snuggled up in Blaine's arms, chest to chest, with his wings spread over what little space Blaine had in his room. Blaine, on the other hand, didn't sleep at all, instead staring up at the white painted ceiling until the afternoon became evening and evening turned into night. He heard voices in the hallways through it all, crying, and calls for order, footsteps and running. New voices were added to the mix, and it took a few hours of those new voices speaking for Blaine to figure out that while they were losing some of the metahumans in the compound as they tried to flee, that others were coming to the compound for sanctuary.

Kurt periodically woke, unspeaking and staring off as absently as Blaine had been until he managed to make himself fall back asleep again. Sixteen hours in all he was in and out of it until he finally sat back up and looked to Blaine.

"We should go out there."

It was the first thing Blaine had heard him say since they were in the common room, and though Blaine was quite content to hide away in his room until someone brought them the news that the outside world had come to its senses, he knew his stomach and his sanity wouldn't be able to manage it.

While they had been safely behind Blaine's door, people had been arriving in droves - certainly in more numbers than Blaine would have thought. There were cots set up in the hallways with hastily packed luggage tucked beneath them. People, young and old, sitting blank faced in them and barely acknowledging Blaine and Kurt as they exited the room.

"Hummel. You mind rooming with Anderson? We need more rooms."

Dr. Ryan was clearly trying to organize things with his makeshift greeting, and Kurt just nodded his way, slipping away from Blaine and to his own room to gather his things. There was no discussion about it, no special "moving in together" talk that couples usually graduated to over time, just an acceptance that it was necessary. Blaine couldn't imagine being separated from Kurt with the current situation anyhow, and it wasn't like they hadn't lived together before.

Once Kurt was moved in, they journeyed to the cafeteria, full with more unfamiliar faces, though all were similarly vacant and disbelieving. Someone was now taking care of cooking full time, and simple meals were being offered in a buffet cart Blaine hadn't known existed. Blaine and Kurt joined the others, eating quietly and looking only to eat other as they spoke with their eyes.

Then was the return to the common room.

It was as busy as it had been left the day before, the news still on with that grim red warning at the top of the screen. New footage of attacks by metahumans and attacks on metahumans was being aired and it was hard to tell them apart.

"Kurt…?"

It was a woman with blonde hair and round blue eyes, with more life around her than anyone else around that seemed to wake Kurt from his zombie like state. He looked at her in quiet disbelief for a moment before quietly whispering.

"Brittany?"

There was a girlish squeal, and Blaine's boyfriend was soon encased in a full body hug by the girl. Several people looked their way, but then looked back to the television just as quickly, leaving Blaine to try and figure out who this person was and if he needed to save Kurt from her.

"Oh. I love your wings! I wish you had let me see them before!" The girl uttered, reaching out to touch the limbs of Kurt's wings with reverence. It made Blaine's stomach twist uncomfortably. He was the only one that should be able to touch Kurt's wings.

"Ah… thanks… Brittany… why are you here?" Kurt fluffed his wings out a little at the touch, his feathers only just peaking out with little black tufts.

"I'm a level one…. 'course, you didn't know that. I have crazy psychic math abilities."

That seemed to give Kurt a lot of pause, as the shock vibrated off him in waves of green and gold. Clearly this was not someone Kurt expected to be a metahuman.

"Well… wow…. I'm glad you made it out then."

There was another hug, and Kurt remembered Blaine beside him and introduced them. The girl was Brittany Pierce, another student from McKinley and one that had been kind to Kurt regardless of his sexuality and voice. He counted her among his friends, and she was delighted to hear as much, giving him yet another hug upon that pronouncement.

"Do you know Santana?" was the question she posed to them once introductions were complete, and both boys shook their heads.

"Oh. She's going to meet me here. She's my dolphin."

"You have a pet dolphin?" Kurt queried, enunciating each syllable slowly.

Brittany shook her head, "Oh no. That's what I call her. My girlfriend Santana. She can swim with the dolphins. I met her when I first came here. She had just found out about her powers too. She said she was on her way here when I called her."

"Well… we'll keep an eye out for her." Blaine offered, receiving a genuinely happy smile from Brittany who then turned back to Kurt and began asking him a million and one questions.

In a way, Blaine was glad for it. It took the pressure off him to keep Kurt's mind occupied and allowed him to wallow in his own brain for awhile. There was nothing he could think of to do to fix things, and if the news on the screen was any indication, things were getting worse, not better.

That was just the beginning too.

Days passed, more refugees arrived, including Santana whose abilities were centered around being able to breath underwater and speak the language of the mammals in the deep. The corridors and halls were completely littered with people, and Blaine was glad that he and Kurt at least had the privacy of a room, even if it was tiny. At least they weren't being stepped around or over all the time.

They took turns sleeping at night. Not because of any imminent threat, but because of the worries that plagued them. The only time they could sleep was when their body made their brain shut down out of sheer exhaustion. This seemed to occur every second night, and on nights opposite one another. Instead of their bed sharing being romantic, it was cool. There were too many people around to enjoy each other's company in the way Blaine wanted to, and too many fears making their hearts feel numb. They held one another, but it was chaste, and out of a need to feel safe, more like roommates or brothers than boyfriends.

Tunnels were dug out from two of the far reaching corridors, set up to function as escape routes in case their little haven was discovered. Everyone took their turns in digging and engineering them. The one place Blaine enjoyed in the compound, the pool, was closed off to make room for more people and save their energy reserves. Water wasn't an issue where they were at least, so close to the Great Lakes, but heating the water required energy that was deemed necessary to ration.

Those that had their identities removed by Howard, and that didn't have any physical qualities of being a metahuman went on grocery runs. They had to be cautious. No one bought any more than what a regular family might eat, and were on a schedule to go buy more at regular intervals so as not to arouse suspicion. Blaine was one of the ones who had to go up, much to Kurt's protests and ended up wearing his Kevlar costume under his regular clothing to satisfy Kurt's need for him to be as safe as possible. It was nice to take a break to the surface, even if he was looking over his shoulder constantly. The air in the compound had become stale, filled with the sweat of a hundred others, a backlog of garbage, and worry.

Kurt had begun to work on a new costume for himself to keep himself occupied. It looked a lot like the old one, which Blaine wondered to himself about since he was sure Kurt really didn't like the design Isabelle had come up with initially. To this one was added in a thinner layer of the same protective kevlar Blaine had in his costume, and a few more built in pockets that Kurt said was necessary for carrying supplies.

"What is it that you need to carry?" Blaine had asked quietly when he was looking over Kurt at the sewing machine he was using, pulling the fabric in and out below the needle for reasons Blaine couldn't discern.

"First aid… maybe some small rations… a compass…"

"Sounds more like things you'd take on a camping trip."

Bright blue eyes had looked up to Blaine then as Kurt paused in his work. "Or things we'd need if we needed to escape without warning."

Blaine had just snapped his lips closed with that bit of information, looking back to Kurt and wishing he had the lack of restraint he needed in order to project a feeling of peace onto Kurt, or at the very least - less anxiety. It might not be the right thing to feel with their circumstances, but Blaine couldn't help but want to give Kurt the serenity he thought he deserved.

It didn't help that Kurt hadn't heard from his father either. Each day Blaine passed by the library after doing his afternoon tunnel digging shift and glanced inside at the little book and computer filled room where Kurt would sit in front of the screen, staring at his email inbox at a message that had not come. Kurt hadn't spoken to Blaine about it, but like so much that went unsaid, it didn't mean that Blaine didn't know much it bothered Kurt - even more because there was nothing he could do to fix it.

So he held Kurt closely, made sure he ate instead of just picking at his food, and kept him warm at night. They spoke less the more crowded it became in the compound. Silence was at a premium after all, and even though Blaine just wanted to hear Kurt's voice lift up in joy, he knew it wasn't about to happen. It was in that noiselessness that they watched the news each evening; watched more attacks, raids on homes with metahumans, watched what seemed to be complete chaos in the major urban centers all around the world - usually documented with cell phones or security cameras since no one could predict when these things would happen. They watched their kind die on television, taking regular humans with them, either because of their malice or in self defense. It was horrific, and yet they watched it with religious vigor.

A makeshift church had been set up in the corner of the cafeteria. They had been invited to join the regular prayer circles there many times, but never accepted.

"We're not going to be able to leave here without dying are we?"

That was the question Kurt posed one night, two weeks after the attacks had begun. Blaine wasn't facing him, turned away in his small spoon position with a black feathered wing over him in what he had begun to realize was Kurt's means of protecting him as he slept.

"We'll survive Kurt… I won't let anything happen to you…."

"How can we stop it though? You saw what they did to that girl who could make herself invisible? She had the power to disappear and still was killed…"

It had been on the news that evening. A girl no older than fifteen in Moscow that still hadn't completely figured out how to control her abilities and had phased in and out of being in the middle of a crowd. All the guns were turned on her, and despite going transparent, she couldn't escape the hail of shots that took her and her family down together, leaving them in bits and pieces for everyone to see.

"Kurt. I'll keep you safe."

"But…. how?"

Blaine sighed. Kurt had to know Blaine was just trying to appease him, try to make him feel better, and yet that didn't stop Blaine from speaking as if he really did have the answers.

"We'll escape if they find the compound. You'll fly us away… as far as you can get us. We'll find the most remote place we can and hide away there. We'll survive Kurt. I promise."

He got a weak and pitiful sigh in response, but no actual words as Kurt held him fast around the waist. If only Blaine could read minds like he could read emotion - though he wasn't actually sure he'd allow himself to read Kurt's mind if he could if only because he didn't want to lose his trust.

"I love you Kurt… sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning."

"I love you too."

They never parted from one another, be it physically or for sleep, without telling one another that. Too many crying metahumans had come in lamenting the fact that they hadn't been able to say it to loved ones before they had to flee, and they had both wordlessly decided they wouldn't be counted among those that had that regret.

They didn't talk about it in the morning though. Or the next day, or the next. A week went by of zombie like existence before Dr. Ryan knocked on their door early one morning to check their status and look at Kurt's new feathers with some degree of enthusiasm, fascinated by the change in color. Kurt seem less amused by his black feathers, citing that they seemed to reflect the dark situation their kind was in, and that they made him look even more like a bird than the white ones did.

He still looked gorgeous to Blaine. Melancholy and coal colored wings didn't change a damned thing. Even the dark circles under Kurt's eyes from not sleeping for a couple nights in a row had no effect on his beauty.

"You hate them too, don't you?" Kurt asked after Dr. Ryan had left.

Blaine was quick to shake his head. "No… why would you ever -"

"You never touch them anymore." Kurt interjected.

"Because I don't want to make you feel… like that… when things aren't good." Blaine admitted bashfully, admonishing himself internally for not even being able to say the word  _aroused_  in front of his boyfriend.

"It would be better than feeling numb."

Blaine looked over Kurt's face, and then his aura, which really hadn't changed at all despite the conversation, still waves of blue, green, and yellow, before reaching out without permission to touch the limbs of Kurt's wings which were so glossy looking now with the black feathers that coated them.

Kurt tensed immediately, but then as Blaine worked his fingers into the skin he relaxed, eventually stepping in against Blaine and resting his head on Blaine's shoulder while Blaine continued the massage. Little by little Blaine rubbed the tension out of Kurt, changing those cool hues above him to warm ones and succumbing to a buildup of heat within his own too tight pants.

"Kurt…"

"Mmm?"

"I'm… ah…"

"What?"

Kurt pulled his head back and up to look at Blaine then, since Blaine seemed to forget how to form words, much less a response to Kurt's query. For a moment he looked at Blaine's red painted cheeks and eyes that tried to avoid contact, and then the ever rare Kurt grin crossed his face his lips opened up in a chuckle.

"God Blaine…" Kurt uttered between intakes of laughing breaths, taking one of Blaine's hands away from his wings and moving it between them until it was forced against Kurt's pelvis, where Blaine blushed all the more brightly when he found himself touching Kurt's erection through his pants. "You're cute when you're flustered."

Blaine wasn't sure what to do then. It was easier with Kurt's wings. Even though they were erogenous zones as well, there was just that stigma that came with touching something that was supposed to remain covered all the time. So his hand remained frozen in place between Kurt's crotch and Kurt's hand that had directed him there, rapidly forming sweat in the palm that matched the sweat beading along his forehead.

"I… Kurt… I…"

He really needed to figure out how to talk coherently and be turned on at the same time.

"Shh… you don't have to say anything…." Kurt cooed, arching his body against Blaine's hand and letting out a shuddering breath as he found friction in the motion, deep purple spikes shooting off of his body like fireworks in Blaine's eyes.

So Blaine stayed quiet, thankful for the reprieve from speaking so he could instead focus on trying to replicate those bursts of lust coming off Kurt. His brain reminded his hand how to move, and while one hand worked diligently along Kurt's wing limb, the other stroked tentatively through the fabric of Kurt's pants giving Blaine a good idea of the length and girth of Kurt's shaft as he let his fingers and palm explore the area.

His reward was given in short gasping breaths, accented by sweet whines that rose in pitch with each successive stroke. Moments was all it took for Kurt's weight to be completely against Blaine, whose ears were having an orgasm of their own at the guttural sounds his boyfriend was making. Explosions of purple, indigo, and deep red filled his vision. The first blend of those colors he had seen in real life, and ones he only knew from  _those_  movies he watched when he had lived on his own and needed some relief. He was doing that to Kurt. The realization made him groan throatily and work more quickly, getting even faster breaths out of Kurt and having to take on more of his weight as Kurt's knees seemed to turn to jelly below him and Blaine had to use the hand on Kurt's wing to catch him and pull them back together on the bed so he could continue without worrying about Kurt collapsing.

He hadn't been watching the clock in the room, but Blaine knew when Kurt looked up at his with wide, water rimmed blue eyes and lips tightly clenched together that the time had come. His hand hadn't even begun to cramp, and his boyfriend, even more beautiful in this moment, was biting back the noises Blaine wanted to hear but knew Kurt didn't want the people out in the hall to hear, was having an orgasm from his touch.

The bright colors faded after a moment, and the whimpers subsided along with them as Kurt fell into Blaine's waiting arms, breathing more softly now, and so much more relaxed than Blaine could remember seeing him since coming to the compound.

"I'll…. you…."

"It's okay…" Blaine murmured, brushing a stray hair away from Kurt's forehead where sweat was gluing it down, "... it's okay."

"Mmmm."

Kurt fell asleep there, and Blaine kept holding him, ignoring the knocks on the door that came an hour later asking if Blaine was in there and if he was going to do his shift on tunnel digging. He would miss it, and he didn't care. All Blaine cared about was dozing in his arms. Kurt was finally getting a real rest for the first time in weeks, and Blaine wasn't going to move an inch and disrupt it. His own erection had fallen flat not long after Kurt had fallen asleep, ignored and unattended to - but again, it wasn't a concern to him.

Lunch came and went, another knock on the door this time asking if Kurt was there and if he was going to do his tunnel shift which again went ignored. It wasn't until Santana, whom Blaine had quickly learned had a voice enough for all of those who had been rendered mute by the devastation above, banged on the door and woke Kurt up as she demanded their immediate attention.

"Hey boys! Get out here! News is going to be showing something major right away!"

Kurt groaned as he was forced out of sleep, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands and then looking up at Blaine. That was when he must have remembered how they had ended up in that position and his cheeks bruised up with pink. "Oh.."

"Hey."

Kurt leaned up and gave Blaine a chaste little kiss before pulling back and standing up, grimacing as he tugged at his pants and muttered something about drying stickiness. That was Blaine's cue to leave the room so Kurt could change, walking down the hall to the cafeteria, where the television had been moved since that room could accommodate more people, and hung back in the doorway since the room was packed with bodies.

The president was on the news again, already in the middle of an address and gripping that same podium from weeks before as he looked intently upon the crowd of journalists before him that were bombarding him with flashes of light as they took his picture.

"... The threat has been graver than we could have imagined. Metahumans have been underreported and this means there have been more of them than we anticipated. Our people have suffered unacceptable losses at their hands, as have other nations. They care for no one but themselves, and if we let them continue to survive then they will surely work to end us. We must not allow ourselves to be a history lesson. Humanity must endure. Borders no longer matter. Today I have spoken with a number of world leaders and we are creating a unified front to deal with the metahuman scourge. We are sharing our scientists and our resources. We will end them before they end us."

"Jesus… Blaine…." Kurt uttered as he stepped up beside Blaine and looked at the screen with a shake of his head.

Blaine gave Kurt an acknowledging nod, looking over the room. Where fear had been the common denominator of the metahumans that had been together weeks ago for the first presidential address, now there was resignation. So many of the metahumans in the room had accepted what the president was saying. They thought themselves as a scourge, something that deserved to be, and would be, destroyed.

That was when the light clicked on in Blaine's head and he looked over at Kurt, feeling like he could finally compose a decent thought again as he whispered.

"We need to leave here before they find this place Kurt… we can't wait to be found."


	11. Chapter 11

**Last weekend I had to watch some of my students, my kids, lift the coffin of another one of my students… another one of my kids. To say it was difficult to watch would be an understatement, and when they opened the casket to reveal her face… reconstructed since it had been crushed, I was officially done for being able to hold back my emotions. This is a girl who came so far in the past three years. I work in an alternative school, which means my kids come from all walks of life but often have mitigating factors in their ability to succeed. This sweetheart came in during grade 9, a fury of drama and general migraine inducing behaviour…. but she grew into a leader, an academic, a brilliant woman. It was a moose for those who wonder. She was driving with a friend and it came out of nowhere, going through the window of the vehicle and right into her. People joke about moose in Canada, but everytime I hear about one its because it's caused a major accident. I hate the fuckers, even moreso now.**

**This weekend I had a meltdown. Between the combination of my masters degree, a leadership cohort I'm a part of, my kids being… well… kids, my husband being constantly on the road due to his union position, the insanity of my new workplace (which has some of the most selfish, demanding, whiney, and unprofessional people I've ever had to coexist with - and no, those are not the students I'm talking about), and every other little thing that happened, I was looking forward to FINALLY having a chance to write, only to end up fighting with my computer. It was the icing on the proverbial cake to say the least.**

**Anyhow, thanks for reading all that, which had absolutely nothing to do with this chapter. It was just me getting out my feelings and my pain. Kids in an Outreach school are more akin to my own kids than students in a regular school, for various reason, and just like parents shouldn't have to bury their kids, teachers shouldn't have to bury their students.**

* * *

Kurt really didn't like Blaine's plan, or at least what Blaine considered a plan. It resembled something more akin to disordered proposal including leaving the compound together with the bare minimum, flying them both over the border, and finding the most habitable, most remote piece of land in Northern Canada they could get to. Kurt was quick to point out all the flaws in Blaine's idea. Kurt wasn't even sure he could fly again and there was no space in the compound to test it out, the border, as the news had shown, was heavily guarded and included anti-aircraft weaponry that could easily take down Kurt, and Kurt hated the cold. He loved a nice looking sweater - but only for the purpose of fashion, not function. He had worn enough heavy sweaters to cover up his wings in days past after all, and he certainly didn't want to sign on to have to wear them day in, day out, and probably in layers the way Blaine was talking about getting close to the Arctic.

What Kurt did like though was that Blaine was tired of doing nothing. Like Kurt, he was tired of being stuck underground and sharing everything. Tired of having no personal space to speak of. Tired of being trapped in a concrete underworld in order to grasp at the last bits of freedom their kind was getting. Tired of the irony of that last statement because, despite being out of the hands of the government and the military, they were still essentially in a prison.

Kurt finally grasped the idea Sartre had been trying to present in the readings he had been forced to go through in English class before his life had changed. Hell was other people. Specially the accumulation of smells, lack of privacy, noise, and personal drama that came with other people.

"The news shows clearly what is happening to metahumans trying to cross the border into Canada Blaine… that's not the way to go." Kurt whispered over as they sat in the ever busy cafeteria and poked at something that was supposed to be oatmeal the morning after Blaine had come up with the idea.

Blaine ate the gray mush, licking his lips over to ensure he contained all the little flakes trying to escape his mouth in their own bid for freedom in a way that made Kurt have to adjust the way he was seating because every time he saw Blaine's tongue, his dick seemed to wake up.

"Well Mexico is so far…"

"What if we didn't cross any borders Blaine? That's where it seems they're getting the majority of metahumans that aren't fighting back. What if there's a remote place in the States we could go to?"

It cause Blaine pause, and again he ate another scoop of the watery gray stuff on his plate that Kurt had too but was ignoring. Kurt had prepared for this moment of reflection though, and continued speaking.

"I did some research yesterday when I went to check my email. There's remote places in the country. A lot of them are still far off, in places like Nevada and Arizona and Utah… but there's a few that are closer, and all we'd have to worry about is getting there safely."

"Like… where?"

From his pocket Kurt pulled out a piece of lined paper he had made notes on and began offering Blaine his findings.

"Okay… Nebraska has an area called the Sandhills where residents are few and far between because of some ancient homesteading act that allows people to own massive areas of land… which they can't do much with."

"Where would we hide there?"

"Well we could dig up something…"

"Next?"

Kurt sighed and continued on. "Yellowstone National Park has -"

"Tourists. Hikers. Wildlife guides."

With a press of his lips together, Kurt mentally crossed that off his list. "Moving on…. Oregon has -"

"Oregon is on the west coast Kurt. That's a huge trek…"

"All of these would be a trek Blaine… as would crossing any border. But we need to pick a destination so we can plan that trip."

Blaine sighed, setting down his plastic utensil as he rubbed one of his temples and looked Kurt's way, "Alright. Go on."

"Western Washington. There's this area that's just all desert like I guess. Looking at some of the photos I'm even thinking there could be some caves for us to stay in."

"Caves?" Blaine's furry caterpillar eyebrows bunched up at that. "Kurt Hummel would be willing to stay in a cave?"

"Well it can't be any worse than how we're living now…" Kurt hissed under his breath, wrinkling up his nose towards the sea of people around them.

Blaine's eyes followed his own, skimming over the crowd until they fell back onto Kurt. "Yeah. I guess you're right there."

"No. He's absolutely wrong there." A sharp voice interrupted, making both Kurt and Blaine snap their heads to the left in unison just as Santana plopped herself down inbetween them into a chair she had pulled away from wherever she had been sitting before. "If you're going to Washington, you want Eastern Washington. Huge mountain range and protected park there. Close to the ocean so you can catch your own food, and that can be used as an escape to many other places."

Kurt and Blaine remained silent for a moment, glancing around to see if anyone else was listening into Santana's voice, which she wasn't keeping above the whisper they'd been using.

"How long have you been listening in?" Kurt finally asked, nose pinched together with wrinkling at the top as he glowered toward the woman who had already proven, in the short time he'd known her, to have no sense of tact.

"Long enough to know that Brittany and I are in. I'm going to go loco on people if I have to stay in this dump much longer."

"You just can't invite yourself along." Kurt hissed, dropping his chin down and squaring off his shoulders as he glared Santana's way.

"Look. Brit's a math mastermind. She says there's a sweet spot when it comes to group numbers. Look at the news even. Pairs? Solo groups? They get caught, so do big groups like the ones all cramped together down here. She says 4-8 people. It's to your advantage to get a couple more people around so we can watch each other's backs."

"I understand you two want to get out of here, just like we do Santana, but we barely know one another, and I don't know if you'd be a help or hindrance to us…" Blaine uttered, looking at Kurt as he spoke in that way that told Kurt he was checking out his aura.

"Oh please. The only reason Brit's a level one is because they don't realize how useful her mathematical capabilities are, and I can breath underwater which means I can ensure we're stocked on sushi dinners."

Kurt and Blaine looked at one another, and Kurt wished he could read Blaine the way Blaine could read him. If he had to guess, by the way Blaine's eyes locked on his own and widened slightly, Blaine was silently asking Kurt what he thought.

"Blaine and I have each other's backs." Kurt said as he looked away from his boyfriend and back to Santana, ending the statement with a determined nod. It was the right call. While Kurt liked Brittany, he didn't know if she was capable enough to handle everything that was out there and he certainly didn't know Santana enough to trust her with their lives.

"Nope. What happens when you need to rest? You could alternate sleep schedules, but that means you limit how long you're on the road for. What happens when one of you misses something and it ends up in both of you dead? You need more eyes and ears out there."

God. She was determined.

Again Blaine looked at Kurt with that ever inquisitive puppy dog face, making Kurt sigh and rub his thumbs into his temples. "Will you leave us to our lunch if I say we'll consider it?"

"That's all we ask." Santana said, a smirk crossing over her face as she slid out of her seat and stepped away, hips bopping from side to side in a walk that Kurt had long ago figured out women used when they were proud of themselves.

Once she was out of earshot, Blaine poked back at the food on his plate and murmured. "I think it might be a good idea."

With a snap of his head, Kurt looked back at Blaine, eyebrows shooting up off his forehead as he hissed, "You're kidding right?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders, not meeting Kurt's eyes as he looked at his plate, unwilling to make eye contact. "She has a point… and she's clearly been thinking the same thing if she has an idea of where to go…"

"God… " Kurt rubbed his thumbs deeper into the sides of his head, trying to ward off the headache this was causing. "... you have noticed she's crazy right?"

"Yeah… but a good crazy." Blaine uttered, accompanied by another small shrug. "Her aura is good too."

"Blaine. No offense. But you're inclined to think most people are good."

He got a chuckle out of that in response and then a grin. "Why would I take offense? That's a good thing right? Always thinking the best of people?"

"Until they take advantage of you anyhow." Kurt huffed out with a shake of his head.

"She won't Kurt…. she's just as desperate as I am when it comes to taking care of the one I love."

Looking back at his plate, Kurt stared at the meager pile of meat, bread roll, and from-the-can corn. Desperation wasn't a good thing, but it was still what was driving Kurt and Blaine to escape, so how could he judge Santana for the same desperation? Trust was the issue here. How could he trust her to watch his and Blaine's backs? Blaine might say she had a good aura, but what did that even mean?

"Let's just sleep on it… okay?"

Blaine nodded, quickly going back to eating the flavorless meal before him while Kurt continued to pick at it, internally weighing the pros and cons of having Santana and Brittany join them.

The rest of the day went as per usual. Shuffling through the metahuman zombies that crowded the compound to wait in line for a computer to use in the library so he could check his email and the news reports, waiting impatiently for Blaine to return from a grocery run, reading a book he had borrowed about tourist attractions in Washington state, and then dinner, the news in the common room, and finally - getting ready to go to bed.

Karaoke night hadn't happened in weeks.

"Anything come in via email?" Blaine asked as they showered in adjacent stalls. Fewer people used the showers at night, and while Kurt had a harder time feeling awakened in the morning without a shower, he preferred the comparative privacy they got in the evening.

"No… and my dad's website hasn't been updated in weeks either. He usually has a new promotion up every couple of weeks…. He was so proud when I showed him how to operate that thing on his own. Dad loves posting on there… or, at least, he did." Kurt murmured, thinking back to the orange and black design that still featured a coupon Burt had made two months ago and was now expired.

"He's probably just… busy…." Blaine uttered unconvincingly.

"Blaine, I may not be able to read emotions, but I can at least tell when you're trying to make me feel better about my dad's apparent lack of existence."

There was a long, low sigh from the shower stall beside Kurt's that echoed against the walls, a counter to the splattering of the faulty shower system that seemed to either have too much pressure or not enough. After a particularly hard splutter of water, Blaine turned off his tap and exited his stall, towel bound around his waist as he moved to the counter with fogged over mirrors, all the while not saying a thing.

Kurt took a little longer to complete his own washing routine, and longed for the days of white feathers which gave away the presence of dirt easily. With the black ones that now adorned his wings, he had to work a little harder to ensure he was completely clean - though the only source of filth in the compound now was the other residents and his own sweat borne out of discomfort.

When Kurt did leave his shower stall, he came up behind Blaine and hugged his arms gently around the other boys waist snugly. "Sorry. I know you're just trying to make me feel better."

Blaine's hands fell on top of Kurt's, holding him there as he exhaled softly. "Yeah… I just… I'm just worried too - on your behalf."

"You don't have to be. I'm a big boy."

"Oh. That I know." Blaine mused, looking back at Kurt against him in the mirror and making eye contact with the reflection of Kurt's eyes. "Speaking of which… maybe I could… you know… "ease your tension" tonight?"

It was meant to be sultry, playful, suggestive. Blaine intended to spark desire in Kurt, but instead of turning him on, all that happened was Kurt barking out a laugh and letting his hands drop from Blaine's side in order to wrap around his own waist as he worked to contain his giggles.

Blaine's body loosened a bit as he turned to face Kurt, eyes narrowing and lips pursing as he regarded Kurt with his eyebrows squished together, and while Kurt felt guilty about leaving Blaine in that confused state, he couldn't seem to stop the flow of chuckles that were erupting from within him.

"Am I that bad at this stuff?" Blaine finally asked when Kurt was catching his own breath.

"Oh… oh god Blaine… no."

"Remember. I can tell when you're lying."

Kurt rolled his eyes and went to stand aside Blaine at the counter, grabbing a brush to run through his hair. "Okay. Fine. You're not bad, but you are adorable. Come on… "ease my tension"? You're the only guy I've ever met that had a hard time talking about sex and using slang that doesn't sound like it came out of some horrible romance novel meant for middle aged women."

"Yeah… well… you're one to talk."

Kurt let the blush rise in his cheeks, looking at Blaine's eyes again through the reflection in the mirror and grinning at the sight. He was no better and they both knew it, but at least they were a matched pair in that sense.

They walked side by side back to their room, having to walk one in front of the other when they entered into the land of cots. Kurt hated having to walk through people sleeping, reading, and talking. It was as if he was unintentionally infringing on their privacy, and it made him uncomfortable.

Though not as uncomfortable as the sight that met him when he and Blaine entered their room.

"Hey guys! Just getting settled!" Brittany chirped from what looked like a makeshift bed on the floor beside their own.

"Oh no… no, no, no, no, NO." Kurt huffed, stepping ahead of Blaine and wagging a finger at Santana who, up until that point, had been fluffing a pillow. "You can not, WILL NOT, just invade our space."

"Oh come on wing-thing. You're worried that you can't trust us but what better way to test that then by sharing a room? Plus, do poor Brit a favor… We've had to deal with that old hedgehog guy staring at us at night and being not too subtle about jerking off at the sight of us. We know we won't have to worry about that with you two."

Brittany nodded enthusiastically beside Santana where she was crouched on the ground, while Kurt tried to put the thought of anyone jerking themselves off so publically out of his mind. "No. This is OUR space. OUR sanctuary."

"Please Kurt? It'll be like a sleepover!" Brittany cooed softly, batting her eyes up at both Kurt and Blaine, the latter of which had been annoyingly silent throughout.

"It will not be. I need my space… Blaine… please…" Kurt snapped his head back, trying to will Blaine into speaking up by staring at him intently.

"... Santana does have a point about the trust thing Kurt… and I really wouldn't want to be responsible for putting them back out there to be oogled…." Blaine uttered softly, eyes pulling away from Kurt's as his voice got softer.

So he was outnumbered.

Kurt threw his arms up in a gesture of defeat and wasted no time crawling into the bed, though took the side against the wall so he could put as much space between himself and the girls as was possible.

Blaine followed him, and then there was a chorus of good nights passed between them all which Kurt made a point not to contribute to, and the light was turned off.

At this point in the night, Blaine and Kurt usually shared some kisses and cuddles before falling asleep, but despite Blaine's movements towards him, Kurt was definitely not comfortable having the girls listen into the sounds of their lips pressed against one another, and after a moment, and with a pathetic sigh, Blaine gave up and went about going to sleep.

A sleepover Brittany has said…. Kurt had never had a sleepover. His wings made it impossible for it to be considered. Granted, he had never been invited to one either because he was such an outcast even without the wings, so he never had to worry about it before. The closest he had gotten to a sleepover before was when he and his mom camped out in a sheet fort in the living room back when he was six.

"Oh… Santana…."

Kurt's ears burned up and he stared straight ahead, face to face with Blaine whose cheeks were pushed out towards him, the result of one of his arms being wrapped around the pillow and the other stretched out on top of his head. He looked like the version of himself that Kurt had seen in those family photographs hanging on the walls of the farmhouse - a younger, softer looking Blaine; too adorable for words.

"Mmm… Oh….. you think they're asleep?"

Kurt should have spoken up; yelled to the rooftop that no, he was most definitely not asleep and certainly not willing to listen to their feminine moans of pleasure, but between how uncomfortable he was with the sleeping arrangement as it was, and the disgust he felt, the words never seemed to form on his lips and instead he was subjected to an ever increasing choir of moaning and overuse of the word 'oh' in rapid succession.

Then it got worse.

A buzzing noise began and Brittany gleefully whispered the question to Santana.

"You found batteries?!"

"I told you I would."

Kurt became ever aware of his body. He kept himself perfectly frozen, not willing to make the slightest of rustlings lest it inform the pair that he was awake and listening - just as bad, if not worse, as the pervert they had complained about earlier. His stomach was forming knot after knot, seemingly in time with every groan, every whimper, and every gasp they let out, and it wasn't until he felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead that he could glance at Blaine again without worrying about the sound of his eyes moving giving him up as awake.

How Blaine was managing to sleep through the noise was beyond Kurt. Sure he had an arm stretched up and over his head, squishing his ear down on top and the other ear pressed into the pillow. Maybe Blaine had gotten used to the noises around the compound. There was no shortage of noises in the hallway at any time of the night, and true silence was rare with all the sniffling, coughing, snoring, and sleep induced murmurings. It was all made worse with Kurt's heightened sense of hearing though, and at this moment, he hated that particular gift.

Together the girls were moaning and writhing together against whatever terrible buzzing toy they had. Kurt could hear the smallest of their gasps and the schlip-schlop of wet skin against the device. To occupy himself, he tried to think of synonyms for gross, but everytime he recalled one he was mentally interrupted by one of them calling out for god.

Kurt was really beginning to despise Blaine for being able to sleep through this. If anything, he should have woken up to endure this torment along with Kurt. Instead he was clearly having a good dream because his lips kept twitching up into an unconscious grin.

Finally the girls finished up, and then Kurt had to grimace through the sounds of them wiping themselves down (and he really didn't want to think about what they used to wipe since there wasn't any tissue to be found in their room), sharing more kisses, and, finally, settling down to sleep.

Kurt was only able to fall asleep about an hour after that, consoling himself with the thought that if the girls were okay with doing  _ **that**_  right beside himself and Blaine, they must clearly trust them.

The next morning, Kurt woke to the pleasant sensation of being kissing along the jawline. For that moment he forgot all about the girls inviting themselves into their room and what they had done when they thought Blaine and Kurt had been sleeping, and moaned softly as he pressed his skin against Blaine's lips.

But as soon as he had done that, he remembered, and snapped his head back almost hard enough to induce whiplash.

"Where are they?!"

"The girls?" Blaine hummed, moving back in to ply his lips back to Kurt, though against his neck this time. "They went to shower."

The tension holding his muscles together in tight bands flooded out, and he returned Blaines hum with one of his own, murmuring nonsense the closer Blaine got to the sweet spot under his Adam's apple. Blaine was magical with his mouth, and Kurt had already had many a fantasy about what else he could do with those lips and that tongue aside from the making out they did. Letting him work that magic on Kurt was one of the best parts of Kurt's day, and made everything seem a little brighter in the dank, gray underground building they were existing within.

So, of course, there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Blaine yelled, head spinning up and away from Kurt's neck.

"Santana! You should tell your boy to come see the news!"

"I'll see it in the evening Santana!" Kurt growled, head already falling back on the pillow in exaggerated defeat.

"No. YOU need to see it NOW! Your last name IS Hummel right?"

Yes, his last name was Hummel. Kurt Hummel, son of... BURT Hummel. Kurt shot right up out of bed and slipped on the closest pair of pants he could find, not even waiting until he had gotten a tank top over his head before exiting the room with Blaine on his heels as they rushed to the common area.

As usual, people were gathered around the television. If they weren't lumbering through the halls like zombies, they certainly were sitting in front of the television like them.

"... Again, reporting from Capitol Hill, we're here with a group of pro-metahuman human activists. Aside from a press release from the government saying that those involved with this rally are the friends and family of metahumans and therefore should not be trusted, there has been no official word from the president or his office. We just spoke with the father of metahuman-at-large, Kurt Hummel, who had this to say…."

The screen snapped from the bored looking reporter to his dad. Kurt's dad. There, alive and well, and on the screen. Closer than Kurt had been to him in weeks. He was alive, and he was fighting on Kurt's behalf….

"My son wouldn't hurt a damned fly, but because he's a metahuman he can't go to school, gets accused of some heinous crime that the cops won't even consider looking at from another perspective, and has to stay on the run in fear of his life. He didn't choose to be a metahuman. He certainly didn't want it…. and it's the same with every other family member of a metahuman I've talked to out here. The only reason they're running away or fighting back is because they've been pushed into a corner, and you know that any sane human would do the same. We're tired of worrying about our kids. We want them safe. We want them home. Look at our history for goodness sake. We persecuted native americans, we persecuted black people, people of different cultures, religions, and ethnicities, people who have different sexual orientations…. when is it going to stop? When are we going to stop drawing lines between people because of things they can't change?"

By the time the screen flicked back to the reporter, Kurt was right in front of the television, Blaine's hand on his shoulder. His dad… his dad has been right there…

"Mr. Burt Hummel is considered one of the de facto leaders of this group and has also put in a bid for congress. He is not expected to win however, given his extremist views on metahumans, however some political analysts are saying his involvement may be the catalyst for a different approach to the metahuman problem."

"My dad Blaine… my dad…."

Blaine squeezed his shoulder and carefully helped Kurt to his feet, a necessity since his eyes were still locked onto the screen and avoiding looking anywhere else in case his dad showed up again. Instead the news closed off and transitioned to an all women's morning talk group whose focus was apparently on if what the kids were wearing nowadays was suitable.

"My dad…."

He was lost for words, and similarly lost in what to do. Blaine led him back down the hall, around the corner, and to the cafeteria where he sat Kurt down and went to fetch them both breakfast. His mind muddled with images of his dad, the words he had heard on television, and the knowledge that his dad was doing all of it for him, Kurt became entranced with the air in front of him, trying to let it all settle in his brain.

"Oatmeal. Your least hated breakfast.' Blaine uttered, snapping Kurt out of his mental absence.

"Thanks…"

They were quiet for a minute, forcing back the putrid, watered down oats until Blaine finally seemed to have had enough and spoke.

"He was confident Kurt… and when he spoke about you, he was worried. You should be proud of him for sticking himself out there like that."

"I am…. I always have been."

"Do you still want to go through with our plan?"

"Now more than ever…." Kurt sighed. "... I want to make sure I stay alive for him. Maybe it sounds pretentious of me… but I know I mean a lot to him and I don't want to end up dead and make him have to mourn me on top of fighting for my rights."

"Then we'll make sure you do stay alive… and it's not pretentious. You both mean a lot to one another. He's fighting because he wants to be able to see you again after all, and that means he's assuming that he's that important to you as well."

"He is."

"Well then… we should do a bit of packing today."

Kurt smiled Blaine's way, the disturbing events of the night before gone from his mind and replaced with nothing but warmth for the boy across from him, spooning through his oat soup and wrinkling up his nose at the sight. Without Blaine in his life, he would have been in government hands long ago. This boy kept saving him, and in more ways than the obvious ones. He kept Kurt going. He kept him motivated, and some days Kurt was sure Blaine knew him better than he knew himself.

"What about the girls?"

"What about them?"

Blaine perked up a solitary brown brow, "Take them with us or leave them?"

Privacy or security. Those were the issues, but one trumped the other when it came to Kurt making sure he was able to get back to his dad one day.

"We'll take them."


	12. Chapter 12

_**TRIGGER WARNING: Minor character death! If I had known when I began writing this that it would turn out this way I would have warned you all sooner - but this chapter took on a life of its own. Apologies.** _

_**Thanks to everyone for their kind words and support. It seems I have a lot of people out there that I can rely on for affirmation, and I want you to know that I will give it back in spades. There's not a lot of people I'm good friends with in my area - since I'm not a gun-toting, quad-riding, Jesus-loving, school drop-out that smokes like a chimney. In fact, most of my good friends are other teachers since we tend to be the only ones around that do things like… read, or… watch the news. I know that it probably makes me sound like an uppity b*tch to say all that, but it's how I feel about the area I live in and until I can become queen of the world - it'll have to do.** _

_**Also, thanks to many readers for the validation on my geography. I picked Washington State because I've gone through it a number of times, including this past summer when the family and I actually camped through most of the Cascade Mountain Range, Olympic National Park, and finally went back into Canada from Port Angeles. It's a very beautiful, and geographically varied state - with fabulous highways. My favourite part was the Columbia Basin - a place where I literally stepped out of the vehicle and my pale skin burnt up right away. It's also a state I'll be referencing in Hell & High Water Part 3 because I am more comfortable with it compared to other coastal locations.** _

_**All that being said though - will our little group actually make it that far? )** _

* * *

Sleeping alongside Kurt was something that seemed inherently natural to Blaine. Since they had begun to share a bed, he had quickly fallen into an easy routine with Kurt, that consisted of him entangling his limbs around Kurt, and Kurt working unconsciously to free himself of those bindings. In the day, Kurt said it was because it was too sweaty, and Blaine's chest hair tickled him - even though it was under his pyjama tops and only the forceful stray one could penetrate the fabric. Blaine knew better though. He knew that Kurt had spent so much of his life binding his wings back, that it was unfathomable to allow himself to be held down anymore.

Not that it stopped Blaine when he was semi-conscious and in need of a good snuggle. Even though they had only just begun to sleep alongside one another, Blaine couldn't imagine sleeping alone ever again. It was like he knew he was made to be with someone else. Nothing felt as safe, or as right.

He had also been good about keeping a grip on his emotions. It was easier when he was conscious, ensuring that he didn't accidentally project emotions on anyone. When he was asleep though… that had taken him a couple years to figure out, and at much too high a cost. Blaine had had to study lucid dreaming, and now, with the exception of his nightmare awhile back, he was generally able to keep tabs on his unconscious emotions. He wouldn't let himself hurt Kurt. He would keep him safe.

Which explained, at least in his own mind, why he was always seeking out Kurt's soft, pliant body in his sleep. Blaine needed to ensure he was there, and okay, and, like so many nights before, Kurt had managed to wriggle free of his octopus like grip at some point and shift over to the small side of the bed he had claimed as his own.

"Oh… baby… right there… yeah! There!"

It was the first thing Blaine heard upon gaining enough consciousness to seek out Kurt, and it made his eyes snap fully open. He wasn't alone though in hearing those words. Kurt was also awake, grimacing up at the ceiling with gritted teeth.

"You like that? Mmm… how about this?"  
"Oh! Oh!"

Kurt's aura shone more discomfort than surprise. He had heard this before, and Blaine recalled how Kurt had mentioned in the past few days that Blaine was able to sleep through anything. This was what he had been talking about.

"Come on baby. Come on…."  
"Ooooohhhh!"

Had Kurt really been surviving this noise on his own? Just as Blaine's jaw dropped a fraction of a centimeter, Kurt's eyes fell to the side, locking onto Blaine's. He wordlessly lifted a finger up to his lips, silencing anything Blaine might have had the gall to say in favor of listening to the sloppy sound of wet skin on skin. Until this point, with Blaine's preference for men, he hadn't ever even considered how two women might have sex together, but now he was forced to try and figure out just what that sound was.

"Yes! Yes! Rock my world baby!"  
"Oh! God yes! Please!"

Bile rose up in Blaine's throat, even though he laid on his side. Those girls were anything but quiet, and he had thought, wrongly apparently, that by allowing them to share the room that they would be gracious guests. Clearly he had been wrong, and Kurt had been suffering for it.

Thankfully there was nothing after that final outburst but low, breathy panting and then the snapping of kissing. The girls shuffled a little and then, not quickly enough for Blaine's liking, fell asleep with little growling snores that mirrored one another's.

"How long?" Blaine mouthed over to Kurt, not daring to even whisper for fear of one of them waking up.

Kurt rolled his eyes and lifted up six fingers. Six nights of this. God. Blaine shook his head and gave Kurt the best apologetic face he could muster. He'd have to figure out how to make it right. Or, at least, find them both some noise cancelling headphones.

A downy, black wing pulled Blaine in amidst his ponderings; Kurt initiating the rare snuggle which Blaine took full advantage of by folding his arms and legs around Kurt.

"You're such a furnace…" Kurt whispered as Blaine tucked his head in under Kurt's chin, cheek flush against the top of Kurt's chest where there was baby fine hair that couldn't be seen unless you squinted.

Blaine didn't respond, listening instead to the thump-thump-thump of Kurt's heart through his ribs and the huff-huuu-huff-huuu of his breathing as it slowed until he fell asleep. Blaine loved to look at Kurt's aura when he slept. Vivid blues and greens, dancing around him of their own accord. There was a reason those were colors used for babies so much. They were calming, restful, and they were what eventually coaxed Blaine back into his own dreams.

Kurt didn't want to address the noisy sex when Blaine asked the next morning, wrinkling his nose up at the suggestion.

"I don't really think Santana is the type to be scandalized by that. In fact, she'd probably just be louder about it to spite us."

Kurt was right. Hell, Kurt was ALWAYS right. Somehow, despite the fact that Blaine was the one who could read emotions, Kurt always could read people better.

They were leaving in three days. They had their bags packed and ready, and Kurt was making the final adjustments on their clothing. The only thing left to do was to try and send messages out to Isabelle and Elliott, and collect a few more rations for the road.

"Any news?" Kurt would ask daily of Holly, who had taken more and more to wearing, or at least morphing into, a big fuzzy red robe around the compound.

"Nada." was the reply. It was always the reply. She had tried to explain to them both early on that they weren't likely to hear from anyone out of New York. Isabelle was registered, which meant she was either incarcerated, dead, or on the run. Elliott had family, and family meant he was sticking near home and trying to blend in to avoid being caught… if he hadn't been caught already.

There was no more news about the pro-metahuman group that Burt had been spearheading, no matter how long Kurt watched the news. It had likely been censored, according to Dr. Ryan, as the government liked to ensure their view was the only one citizens were exposed to. Every history textbook that Blaine had ever read for school was coming alive when it came to the news, and just like his history teachers had warned him - the past was being repeated by those who hadn't studied it. Propaganda, genocide, fear mongering, and deception. The media wasn't controlled by the people, it was being used to control the people.

Yet Blaine's old history teachers, for all their good intent in teaching him and his classmates, didn't provide Blaine the answers he needed now.

What can people do to stop it?

There wasn't an answer, at least not one that Blaine could figure out in the occasional quiet moments when he was alone with his thoughts. Those times were getting fewer and fewer, especially with Santana and Brittany now in their room, making all sorts of nausea-inducing noises at all hours of the night. Blaine had only recently been introduced to the extent of their intimacy, but even before that he often had fallen asleep to the sounds of them smacking lips.

"I think we should wear our outfits under regular clothing for the next couple days…" Kurt mused as he stood up from Blaine's ankles where he had made the final stitch, looking over his handiwork thoughtfully. "Make sure they're tough enough to handle the elements and comfortable enough to wear no matter what we're doing."

Blaine circled his shoulders back, testing the stretch of the jacket fabric as he swung his arms around. It felt good enough to him, but Kurt, being Kurt, was being cautious. "You just want to make sure I'm bulletproof."

"If there was a way I could stitch the kevlar into your face I would…" Kurt sighed softly in response, eyes lifting from Blaine's torso to his lips. "... If there's anything I've learned in my life it's that you can't be too safe."

"We'll be on our way soon… and then we'll find - or make - a place that's just ours. Like the farmhouse."

"But we won't ever be safe."

No, Blaine agreed internally with a frown tugging down the corners of his mouth, no matter how much I try I won't be able to make the world truly safe for us. For you.

Wearing the costumes underneath their clothes gave Brittany the impression that they had gained weight, which she noted with an obnoxious laugh after poking Kurt in the stomach.

"Can you have babies? Or would they be eggs?"

"They're just hoarding too much of the cafeteria food Brit. They're not pregnant." Santana snickered, looking at her girlfriend and not Kurt - whose expression was getting more exasperated by the second. He hated being touched without permission. He would have made a terrible pregnant woman - having to cope with strangers wanting to touch his bubble belly all the time. It was a phenomenon Blaine never understood, and one that seemed uniquely female.

Though he never remembered his mom ever indulging in it.

Brittany and Santana joined them now for most meals, when they weren't sneaking off to the bedroom to make-out anyhow. Brittany, as it turned out, had been sent to the compound by her parents with lots of cash, and an emergency credit card. They used it to reserve a rental van that they would use to travel part of the way to Washington before switching vehicles. At that point they would pay cash so it would be harder to track where they had gone if anyone looked into her family's accounts.

Their plans to leave couldn't have been more timely either. Each day new refugees joined the compound at an alarming rate. There was no way this place wouldn't be found out, and it would probably be sooner rather than later. It was so bad that people were now taking up residence in the cafeteria and bathrooms at night. Privacy was nonexistent, and Blaine wasn't sure how the compound was getting away with pumping out the volume of sewage that came with all the residents using the bathrooms. Someone had to be taking notice, or, at the very least, someone would take notice soon.

"I say we take a detour to Mount Rushmore. See what all the fuss is about." Santana spoke up, eyeing Blaine over a forked piece of beige potato that was about to go into her mouth. He had been daydreaming again. He was bad for it.

"No detours. Especially not to tourist traps where there'll be a ton of people with cameras." Kurt retorted, ignoring his own food. Despite the extra layer of clothing on him, Blaine could see he had lost weight in the past weeks.

"You can stay in the van." Santana huffed, speaking around the now mashed potato in her mouth. "We can go see it. No one has to see those wings of yours."

"No. We need to stay on the road and keep driving. I can't drive without risking people seeing my wings so you three need to go in shifts. If we detour then we screw up the whole schedule."

"For someone being chauffeured you're awfully demanding."

If it were possible, Blaine was sure he would have been able to see steam coming off of Kurt's head then. "It's not like I wouldn't drive if I could."

Meanwhile, Brittany was calculating aloud, though no one seemed to be paying any attention to her aside from Blaine. "Two days, including rest stops and detours around major cities… Mount Rushmore would add an additional two hours of driving plus sightseeing time…."

_**-CRACK-BOOM!-** _

Their conversations, or in Brittany's case, one sided dialogue, ended abruptly with the shaking of the cement walls and the shuddering of the foundation below their feet. Some people in the cafeteria cried out in surprise, but most people went silent, looking up at the ceiling for answers, or at least a source of the shockwave. It took mere milliseconds for one tremor to lead into the next, this time accompanied by what were either the sounds of fireworks or bullet sprays, and Blaine was betting that there wasn't a celebration going on over their heads to warrant the first option.

"Run! Get your stuff!" Santana cried, standing up and grabbing Brittany by the hand and dashing off while pieces of broken ceiling tile scattered around them like heavy snowfall from the earthquake like sensations that had overwhelmed them.

Everyone else had the same idea, and given that there was only one exit out of the cafeteria, a bottleneck effect occurred at the door. They were all crammed into it, and when they finally made it to the hallway, Blaine's face fell when he saw that it was much the same in both directions. No one was moving anywhere fast.

"Can you fly?"

Kurt looked at him blankly, his aura largely unreadable aside from some skepticism. "There's no room for me to try Blaine… I couldn't even lift off because my wings don't have the space."

So they shoved through the swath of people, cringing each time the rat-a-tat-tat of bullets went off above them. They needed to get out before those bullets came down to their level, and it was getting increasingly hard to pinpoint where the military was located above them as the screams and panic levels around them rose and muted out the sounds above.

"Blaine. We need to split up. You need to get the bags, and I need to grab some food… we don't have enough -"

"We'll get some on the way!" Blaine snapped. They weren't splitting up. Blaine had seen enough movies to know what happened when people split up. It wasn't going to happen.

"No! They'll be checking the rest stops for escapees now! This is our only chance to get some food!"

"No it's not! You're being insane! We'll find food. Hunt if need be. We're not splitting up!"

Kurt wasn't the only one being irrational. Flames of confusion and chaos where fired up among everyone down the hall, only intermittently broken up by the warmer colors of anger, which itself wasn't a good indicator of quality decision making. It didn't matter how Kurt argued anyhow. They were too jam packed among other bodies moving in all directions to easily split and Blaine took advantage of that fact by grabbing Kurt's hand and holding it fiercely in his own.

"I'm not leaving you."

Kurt seemed to recognize the insistence in his voice, that, or he finally recognized the illogical way he had been behaving and clammed up about separating. Together they slowly oozed along with the group, towards their room where they had a moment of breathing space to grab their bags, thankfully prepared, and return to the chaos outside their door. The girls had already grabbed their own bags by the looks of things, much more hastily packed since Santana had assured herself and Brittany that they could do it the night before they left and that way wash what they had to ensure they had the maximum amount of clean clothing. It was the one time Santana hadn't listened to Brittany, who had insisted there was a always a greater probability of the compound being found out before their expected departure date, and a choice Santana was surely regretting now.

In the fray, Kurt had to hold his wings firm against his back. A couple of times people had tried to grab onto the wings to pull themselves along, plucking feathers which brought tears of pain to the rims of Kurt's blue eyes. Blaine couldn't have that. Regardless of who they were and despite being just as panicked as he was, Blaine gave both individuals earfuls. It prompted them to back off a step, but they still remained hot on Blaine and Kurt's heels - safer to be yelled at than shot.

The fire of bullets was getting closer, yet they were moving just as slowly as they had been in the beginning. Frantic attempts to move towards one of the tunnels only delayed things further as people dropped things or lost people in the chaos. This was not the way things were supposed to go. This was not where Blaine wanted to die.

"Shit. Blaine. Look!"

On the floor, huddled against the wall was a girl - probably around their own age. It looked like she had been stomped down and was now semi-conscious and using the wall as a support. People were filing over her like she was a bump in the floor, ignoring her despite the fact that she was bruised and bleeding. They were leaving her for dead.

"We need to keep moving." Blaine stammered, eyes locked on the metahuman mass on the floor. There had been a time he had saved people. Now he was only intent on saving himself and Kurt.

Kurt ignored him, bending over and stretching his wings out just enough to act as a shield as they reached her. He picked her up easily, and she flopped against him lifelessly. Blaine stood by Kurt, shooting angry glares at those who swore at them for holding up the line - if it could be called that.

"She's breathing… barely." Kurt yelled, though in the noise it sounded more like a whisper to Blaine's ears. He nodded and they trudged forth, now with human cargo. They had no time to discuss it or debate over it. Kurt saved the girl and Blaine would have to be alright with that.

The screams seemed to increase in volume, getting closer to them with each step. Kurt kept his eyes focused on what was ahead, but Blaine couldn't help but look back.

Sparks. He saw sparks, and then realized they were at the ends of slender looking guns which were aimed towards the crowd and mowing metahumans down behind them. The walls, once grey and white where people had bothered to paint them, were now splattered with red, already drying into brown, abstract clumps. People were being slaughtered. It was like the scenes on the news they had been watching night after night, but now the news had come to them. Blaine could see a camera behind the men, or what he assumed were men, fully attired in green camouflage (what good the camouflage did in this building was beyond him), filming the whole scene. No doubt to air on the next nightly news. They were just a brief story. Something to illuminate the dinner tables of regular humans across the nation as they talked about school and work.

"We're almost there Blaine… " Kurt yelled from beside him, and though he knew it was probably true, he couldn't unglue his eyes from what he was coming from. Part of it was sheer disbelief that he was truly seeing people die, the other part was making sure those guns didn't turn on Kurt.

The bodies of the people they had once shared this place with were unrecognizable, left where they fell as the military men stepped over them much as the metahumans had done with the girl in Kurt's hands before. Blaine couldn't make out anyone's faces, and he wasn't sure if he should be grateful for that fact or worried that he couldn't recognize them because of the blood that covered their features. So many of the shots were headshots. These men didn't make mistakes.

So much for kevlar protection on their bodies. Kurt was right to want to somehow protect their faces.

"Blaine! Kurt! Hurry!" A voice called from on ahead, and the only reason Blaine was able to identify it as Adam was because Kurt called his name out in return. Those men were advancing too quickly upon them, only slowed by having to trudge over bodies.

So many bodies.

The smell of fresh air hit Blaine then, a sharp contrast to the smell of stale bodies and coppery blood from the hallways, and for a moment he snapped his head forward to make sure his senses weren't deceiving him. The ladder up the tunnel was right in front of them, and Adam was directly them up. Kurt thanked him, made him promise to follow them, and then hefted the girl over his shoulder like she was nothing in order to ascent the ladder. In any other moment, Kurt's show of strength would have been awe inspiring. In this moment, Blaine was just grateful Kurt wasn't slowing down.

Taking the ladder rungs in hand after Kurt had gotten up a ways, Blaine looked from behind him to Adam, mouthing a thank you before he took the first pull up on his own ascension. No matter how jealous he'd been of Adam before, he had to credit him with being braver in that moment than Blaine had ever been before. He would have to tell him. Have to apologize for stealing Kurt from Adam when he was trying to woo him.

Except he wouldn't be able to.

A shot ricocheted off the side of the tunnel where a metal brace had been put up, whizzing past Blaine's side and narrowly missing his hip. If it had him him there, it might have winded him, but the kevlar should have stopped it from doing any lasting damage.

Instead the bullet struck Adam, and Blaine froze in place as he watched the man-goat crumple to the ground. A second ago they had shared eye contact, a silent communication, now he was on the ground. Dead, or quickly on his way there. Blaine hadn't even seen where he had been shot, but knew by the amount of red flowing out of his body that there was no way Adam had gotten off easy.

"Blaine! Come on!" Kurt called above him. Blaine kept looking down at Adam's body, so twisted upon itself, as he lifted himself up the ladder rung by rung. He kept staring until he reached the top, where Kurt pulled him into his arms, and used his hands to direct Blaine's face at his own.

"We can't think about it now. We have to move."

So they did. Scattering just as everyone else was in all directions. They had a plan however. A meeting place with the girls. Gunshots still echoed behind them, but the tunnel had slowed them down from following, and the military clearly hadn't anticipated the tunnel exits the metahumans had created because there was no traps in place to catch them as they escaped.

After awhile, it got quieter. People had dispersed, and after running until Blaine's lungs couldn't handle it anymore, they paused and finally looked back. There was ash in the sky, rising above what must have been the compound. Blaine could only guess the shakes and booms they had first heard were from the compound being bombed or shelled, resulting in the smoke rising up now.

It was a cemetery now.

Kurt still had the girl over one of his shoulders, and had it not been for her, Blaine would have suggested Kurt try flying them both off. Instead they took a moment and then began to run again. Hopefully the girls would be in the meeting spot and they could keep moving.

Blaine wanted to put as much distance between himself and that place as possible.

There was an old, boarded up gas station. At some point there had been painted, red letters on the sign outside of it. D T S was all that could be made out now. Three letters with no meaning other than that it was their safe place. Blaine directed Kurt towards it, since Kurt hadn't been out of the compound since they had come to it. It was a place Blaine and Santana had scoped out on a grocery run, far enough away from the compound to, hopefully, avoid the eyes of any military personnel, but close enough that they could get there on foot.

A set of duffel bags were what Blaine first saw when he rushed around back, out of view of the road, and he knew then that the girls had made it. Two sets of feet was what he saw next, but when he looked up at the bodies connected to those heads, he was taken aback.

"Sebastian?"

One of the bodies wasn't Brittany, but instead the guy that had been vying for Blaine without him realizing. Like Kurt and Blaine, Santana and Sebastian were sweaty, clothing sticking against them like a second coat of skin. Despite being Brittany-less though, Santana didn't look upset.

"Brit went ahead to rent the van early.. before the story breaks and the military send people to scout out the towns around here."

"You're… not worried about her?" Kurt asked, glancing between Santana and then Sebastian with a noticeable spike of yellow worry darting over his head.

"She can handle herself just fine." Santana grumbled, then nodding her chin towards the girl on Kurt's shoulder. "Who's that?"

"Don't know. She was stampeded over in the halls…." Kurt said, kneeling down and delicately laying the girl out on the grass. "Get me the first aid kit out of our bag Blaine."

Blaine complied, kneeling down alongside Kurt and serving as a makeshift nurse as Kurt checked over the bruising and cuts on the girl, who, despite being marked up, was clearly quite pretty with flaxen blonde hair and sharp facial features. She must have been new to to the compound because Blaine couldn't recall seeing her before, not that he paid anyone much mind except for his small circle of friends and Kurt.

Santana also helped, grumbling about taking on another passenger, which Kurt quickly shot down by noting that Santana had done the same thing with Sebastian.

"Well maybe she's queer too and we can call this whole trip a gay-adventure."

Sebastian, Kurt, and Blaine all rolled their eyes at that.

No more words were spoken as they impatiently waited for Brittany, Kurt tending to his patient while Blaine double checked what supplies they had. Sebastian hadn't had a chance to grab anything, but ensured he'd make up for the lack of planning by using what he dubbed his 'Silver Tongue' ability.

"I guess it doesn't much matter now who we bring." Blaine admitted, looking off towards where the blue sky was marred by chalky grey smoke still rising. "So long as we stay alive."

As Santana predicted, Brittany returned, driving a rickety white van that looked like the beginning of every news story Blaine had ever seen about guys trying to pick up little kids. Regardless, it was their way out, and so Santana climbed into the passenger seat while the rest of them went into the back where there were no seats, but an empty cargo area which half of was taken up by the girl's limp body. Kurt had decided, on his own authority, that the girl was probably fine and had just been knocked out.

Not wanting to face anymore death that day, Blaine had nodded in agreement with the prognosis.

The ride was silent, with even Brittany and Santana not speaking. Sebastian kept an eye out the back window while Kurt stared down at the girl, but looked through her more than at her. Blaine just stared at the side of the van.

He stared at metal, but all he saw was bodies dropping. Again and again and again. The same tape in his mind playing over and over.

"Your heart is beating fast." Kurt mumbled a short while later, meant for only Blaine to hear but the small space resulted in everyone glancing his way before looking back to whatever it was they had been focusing on before.

"We just ran for our lives Kurt…"

"I know."

"I saw people die."

"I know."

"Adam died."

"... I know."

Quiet again. Brittany turned on the radio, only to have Santana to smack it off the instant the news came on to report a metahuman stronghold had been successfully raided. After a couple hours, they pulled over so Santana and Brittany could trade places, continuing the drive. Blaine didn't watch to see any of the signs they passed, knowing only that they weren't being followed as far as he could tell.

Besides, all he could see, again, and again, and again… was the compound.

"This is as close as we'll get to a private rest stop for awhile. Take a piss and wash what you can because you all stink." Santana declared after a time. Blaine noticed for the first time that they were on a gravel road, entrenched in trees and near a small creek. Sebastian was the first to vacate the van, rushing for a tree where the telltale sound of hissing liquid signalled his bladder giving out on him. Santana and Brittany left too, leaving the van idling just in case, and went down the creek to wash themselves up. They stripped down, clearly not concerned about the gaggle of gay men in their wake as they cleansed the dried sweat from their bodies.

"Come on Blaine…" Kurt half-whispered, reaching for his hand. "She'll be okay."

It took Blaine a second to realize Kurt was talking about the yet, unnamed girl on the floor of the van. He hadn't been thinking about her, but he nodded Kurt's way anyhow and followed after him as he grabbed their duffel bag and walked upstream from the girls, stripping himself down to his briefs and washing himself off in much the same way they were.

Blaine just stared at his feet, as if it were the first time he had seen them. Immersed in the water, he watched as darkness floated off them, mingling with the water and turning it red. He had blood on his feet this whole time and hadn't noticed.

"Blaine…"

Kurt came to him, slowly pulling his clothing free and scooping up handfuls of water to wash him with. That's when Blaine came unglued, releasing all the emotion he had been holding back for hours as he crashed to his knees on the rocks below the shallow water, adding his tears to the water coursing around him.

Just like in the van, no words were spoken, but this time it was okay. Kurt just held him against him, bent down in order to cradle Blaine against him and adding in his own small sobs. Getting it out was cathartic. It wasn't going to make things better, but at least they were acknowledging the hell they had just been through. No one bothered them, and through a small cry in the distance, they knew they weren't alone in their grief. One of the girls was crying too.

When his eyes were too dry to produce anymore tears, and Kurt's face was blotched red, Blaine found the strength to pick himself back up, extending a hand for Kurt to take as well.

"Blaine…"

Uncertainty and fear pranced atop of Kurt, a medley of colors that Blaine wasn't accostomed to seeing over his boyfriend who was usually so sure of himself. The pause Kurt was holding onto made Blaine's heart pump extra hard for the second it was taking.

"What is it?"

Blue eyes lifted from the stream, reflecting their hue towards Blaine's eyes, all serious and steadfast.

"I want you to have sex with me."


	13. Chapter 13

_**I love how everyone messages me on tumblr wanting to know when the smut will happen, and yet, when I use the word sex in the last chapter, everyone goes "WHOA! Whoa, whoa, whoa... WAIT.". I have to laugh. Love it. I get the hesitation though. That being all said, smut finally happens in this chapter. I apologize for not being MissBeizy or The-Cimmerians in terms of smut quality. I do what I can. Enjoy.** _

* * *

"What the hell kind of name is Quinn?" Sebastian grumbled, glancing back in the rearview mirror at the girl who had just awoken sitting between Kurt and Blaine.

"My first name is Lucille actually… but I've gone by Quinn for the past couple years…. It's a middle name I got from my great aunt." was the soft reply. Quinn had just awoken, rubbing the side of her head and looking between all the faces that were new to her. It was the first thing Brittany asked of her when the girl had emitted a groan and then sat herself up, Blaine quickly reaching to help support her which shocked her into full consciousness.

Clearly she was not expecting to awaken in a van with other people.

"You were on the ground in the hallway. We took you with us when we escaped." Kurt explained, glancing up over the blonde head of hair to make eye contact with Blaine.

* * *

" _W-what? S…. sex? Now?"_

_Kurt had stared for a second, and then broke into a sharp laugh that seemed to confuse Blaine further. "No! Not now… but I want to… with you…"_

" _Oh… okay."_

* * *

"Kurt saved you actually." Blaine expounded, looking back at Kurt for a moment before glancing back to Quinn. "People were just walking right over you."

The girl was silent for a moment, looking down at her dirtied dress that had suffered several tears from the heels of peoples shoes and then looking over at Kurt, his wings, and then back at his face. "Thank you."

"Did you get knocked out of the way going down the hall?" Kurt asked. He was so used to people looking at his wings that it didn't even phase him anymore. Let them look, he thought. At least it gets that awkwardness out of the way.

She shook her head, wincing at the sensation. Clearly her head hurt the most, and his estimation that it was what had caused her to be knocked out had to be correct.

"No… I… camoflauge… or go invisible…. whatever you want to call it. When I heard the shots it was the first thing I could think of to do. I had only come in today… is it still today?"

Kurt nodded, and she continued.

"Dr. Ryan checked me out. I asked him for what his assessment of my powers were and then he got all grumbly, saying that there wasn't a technical manual for prescribing what powers people had…."

That sounded like Dr. Ryan alright.

"... he showed me a cot. In the girls shower room of all places… Anyhow, I was going to explore when I heard the gunfire. I cloaked myself, that is, made myself invisible, and backed against the wall… but people were coming out of everywhere and I'm still solid, just unseen like that."

"Someone knocked you up without seeing you?" Blaine offered.

She nodded, again wincing and swearing under her breath. "Yeah. I had no where to move out of the way and all I could think was 'Oh Shit' before everything went black…. when I'm unconscious, I can't keep myself cloaked."

"Probably for the best." Santana said from her place in the passenger seat. "If you were still cloaked Kurt wouldn't have seen you to pick you up and you would have gotten all shot up and never been found."

* * *

" _You.. me… we don't have to… I just-"_

" _I want to Kurt… but I just don't know that you really do."_

_Kurt frowned, looking at the man before him, shirtless and beaded with water. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"_

* * *

"I guess… thanks again…" Quinn said quietly as she looked down at the short, firm carpet on the floor of the van.

"None of us are really doctors… but if there's something we can do to help... " Blaine uttered, extending a hand to Quinn, "I'm Blaine by the way."

She smiled, showing them all just how beautiful she was with the grace it gave her as she looked up at Blaine. "Nice to meet you. I have a headache if you have any tylenol or advil…."

Blaine smiled back and nodded, digging into their first aid kit and offering her two little white pills which she hastily took without any water to wash it down. It must have been one hell of a headache.

"So… are you gay?" Brittany asked boldly, rocking back on her rump forwards and backwards in place.

Quinn choked a little at the question, looking wide eyed at Brittany and then back at Blaine as she silently asked if the question was for real before telling Brittany, quite plainly, "No… no I'm not."

"Well you really are special then aren't you?" Brittany chuckled and Santana joined in on the laugh, causing Quinn's eyes to go wide in bewilderment.

"I'm afraid that everyone else here swings a certain way that isn't exactly the norm." Blaine explained, once again drawing a small smile out of Quinn who nodded, slowly this time, in understanding.

"Got it."

* * *

" _Because we just escaped hell? Because this is not the time to make a decision like that?" Blaine suggested, stomping around in the shallow water in a small circle as his hands gestured wildly to either side._

" _That's EXACTLY the reason I'm making the decision Blaine. We could have died. We could have died and we didn't." Kurt insisted, holding his feet firmly in place despite the water seeping into his boots and making his socks uncomfortably soggy._

" _So… you what? Want to have sex as a celebration?" Blaine asked, stopping in front of Kurt and looking at him imploringly._

" _Yes! No!... Blaine… I didn't even decide this today. I decided it awhile ago."_

" _... you did?"_

" _Yes." Kurt sighed, reaching to take each of Blaine's hands in his own and speaking down towards them as he opted to bare it all. "Why shouldn't we have what Santana and Brittany have? Those moments of pleasure… why should we have to wait? What rules are there about it? I want you, and if you want me too-"_

" _Of course I do."_

" _-then why should we wait?" Kurt's eyes flickered up from their entwined hands, scanning over Blaine's face for what he hoped was understanding. "Part of it is not wanting to die a virgin, yes, but another, much larger part of it is just wanting to be with you like that."_

* * *

"I'm going to pull over at this gas station." Sebastian announced a fair time later, already slowing down the van as he turned into what looked like the only stop they'd see for awhile on the decrepit, bumpy excuse for a road they'd been travelling on. "Make sure you're hidden there bird-boy."

Kurt nodded, already pulling one of their folded up blankets up and over him. If someone peeked in, the plan was to make it look like he was just having a nap in the back of the cargo van.

"What do you want to eat?" Blaine asked as the door opened and all the girls made a frantic escape, synchronously citing the need for the bathroom all at once.

"God… anything would taste better than any of the slop we've been eating at the compound…." Kurt muttered before lifting his eyes to Blaine's and definitively stating, "Peanut butter M&M's."

Blaine gave him one of those grins that seemed reserved for Kurt and Kurt alone, half teeth and half lip, closing the door on him and leaving him alone in the back of the van where Kurt laid down, wings tight against his back, and blanket loosely piled over him as he pretended to sleep. Despite the fact that the windows were tinted and there was no other cars in the lot when they pulled up, Kurt was still nervous. He couldn't let himself be the reason they were exposed. He was the biggest liability in the group, and he would never be able to find the words to express how thankful he was that the rest of them were okay with him tagging along with his obvious metahuman qualities that could reveal them all.

* * *

_There was silence after that, each of them washing the other with gentle handfuls of water, using balled up socks as sponges. They parted only briefly - to change into fresh clothing and relieve themselves behind their own bushes. They washed their old clothing in the creek in similar quiet, taking peeks at one another that ended with them glancing bashfully away in turn._

_Knowing they were going to take that step, far beyond the little bit of intimacy that had Kurt coming in his pants a week ago, had them acting like the awkward teenagers they were. Part of Kurt told him this was a big deal, while the other part tried to tell him that it wasn't, it was just one little step in the staircase of life. He didn't know what to listen to in his mind, and it didn't matter anyhow because his heart beat so hard when he glanced Blaine's way that he wouldn't be able to hear the voices in his head anyhow._

_Somehow they managed to rejoin the group though, and somehow they managed to force themselves to act as if nothing major had occurred between them during that break, but the way Kurt's heart kept racing and the way his cheeks seemed to redden each time Blaine looked his way, like he was noticing him for the first time again, made Kurt worry that someone in their little group would pick up on it and tease them for it._

_As if teasing was the worst thing they could have possibly gone through that day._

* * *

They all came back, loaded down with the worst junk food imaginable in all their arms, Sebastian being the last one back in the vehicles as he went about filling it with as much gas as the tank could hold while Quinn questioned if the credit card Brittany had used to pay for it all was real. Apparently the card has a rainbow, glitter infused cat on the front.

"Yeah. My daddy had it made especially for me."

Peanut butter M&M's were presented to Kurt from Blaine, along with several cans of iced tea and one of those ice cream cones with chocolate trapped in the peak of the cone. Somewhere in the back of Kurt's mind, he was reminded of a conversation that had happened weeks ago where he had lamented the lack of ice cream in the compound, and Kurt was sure that was what had prompted Blaine to buy him it now.

"Thank you."

"Thank Brit. She paid for it all." Blaine said softly, eyes tracing over Kurt's lips as he licked over the cone where it had already began to drip. He tucked away his own bag of treats then, pulling out a package of beef jerky which he offered a bit of to everyone before digging into it himself.

"Actually my daddy did. He makes a lot of money selling and buying things." Brittany noted from where she had taken up residence in the passenger seat up front.

"What is he buying and selling?"

"Never asked. I like to think it's sprinkles." Brittany answered in response to Quinn's question.

Kurt kept the blanket around his shoulders as their journey continued, having not realized how cold he was until the air from outside of the blanket tried to sneak its way inside and cool his skin. People dozed, on and off, never for too long at once with the way the van rocked and jumped with every little pebble it rolled over, but there was an unspoken agreement that it was time to rest, and everyone, save for Sebastian who hummed to himself as he drove, tried to get as much napping time in as they could manage.

Dreams came with whimpers though, and unconscious tears. Kurt knew, on some level, that Blaine had seen the worst of it all. The girls and Sebastian had gotten out before them, and Quinn had been unconscious. The only time Kurt stopped to look back was when he didn't hear Blaine right behind him on the ladder out of the tunnel.

That image of Adam, or what had been Adam, collapsed in a pile of himself with a pool of his own blood would haunt Kurt to eternity, and the way Blaine had been frozen in place, looking at the same thing Kurt was at that point, it crushed Kurt's heart to see. He used up every ounce of willpower he had at that point to urge Blaine to keep moving lest he had to see him in a similar pile on the ground.

His own sleep he managed was thankfully dreamless, and after a particularly harsh bump in the road, Kurt awoke to find that he had been drawn in against Blaine, with his head and a puddle of his own drool on Blaine's lap.

"We should stop for the night. Get a proper sleep and then switch up vehicles." Santana grumbled as she looked outside at the darkness overtaking them. They had been travelling west, away from the advance of the sun, but it had caught up with them and now was threatening to set in front of the windshield.

"We can't exactly check into a Hilton." Sebastian grumbled, eyeing Kurt in the rearview mirror with the first hint of complaint since they had left.

"A motel would be good though." Santana noted. "They're usually not in busy areas, and we could get a block of rooms beside one another… park the van right in front of them and sneak Kurt in ninja style. Could work."

"We don't need to risk it." Kurt said quietly, rubbing his cheek free of the dried saliva that had rolled over it during his unplanned nap on Blaine's thighs. "You guys can stay in a hotel. I can stay in here and cover up."

"No Kurt. We do it together or not at all." Santana insisted, and, for the first time since he'd met her, Kurt wondered if she might be likable after all.

"Yeah…" Blaine chipped in, gently pressing a hand to Kurt's shoulder to help him sit back up. They glanced at one another shyly, before looking away. A hotel room… or motel as the case might be, had all sorts of underlying insinuations, ones that made Kurt's heart speed up at the thought of.

"Well… let's just see what we come across then I guess."

It didn't take long for them to find a long stretch of motels with mostly empty lots. It was the middle of the week after all, and by semi-trucks parked along the road, it was clear that the majority of people stopping for the night were truckers. Sebastian pulled into the one that looked like "the least rotten grape in the bunch" by his estimation, and he and Brittany went into the office to see if they could get a block of rooms.

"We should totally order the greasiest pizza whatever town this is has to offer." Santana murmured as she watched through the window of the van for the pair's return, earning an eager nod of agreement from Blaine and Quinn and a rumble from Kurt's stomach.

The rooms were books, and Sebastian explained to them all when he drove the van into a spot right in front of the center of their block of rooms that the guise he had used was that they were a bunch of college kids on a road trip. He admitted to using his coercement abilities, not because he didn't think the lie would work, but because he didn't want to take any chances.

The cargo van was backed up, right in front of one of the doors, which Santana opened while everyone else sided up beside Kurt as he was rushed into the room. By everyone's approximations though, they weren't seen, and Santana made good on her earlier declaration - ordering an obscene amount of pizza's which were delivered a half hour later while they all took turns showering and watching the news.

The story of the compound was all over it. Military personnel were interviewed, citing that the majority of unregistered enemy metahumans were in custody and that they had been forced to dispatch some because they were resisting and were a threat to the safety of humans.

Dispatch… like they were taxi's or something. Kurt was always awed by the language used in the news, as if metahumans couldn't even be killed like humans could.

Kurt hadn't seen or heard anyone resisting when they escaped. Metahumans had, after all, grown up as humans. They had been taught to run from danger, and in the moment he had heard the shots, his own adrenaline took over. It didn't matter that he was properly stronger or quicker than most of those guys, his instinct had taken over and told him to get the hell out. He imagined it was much the same for most everyone else there.

Sebastian was the first to leave, retiring to his own room. He and Brittany had gotten four rooms, assuming that her and Santana would share and Kurt and Blaine would do the same, leaving Sebastian and Quinn with rooms of their own. Sebastian said he wanted to get to sleep before the couples started getting things on so he'd be asleep before he had to hear anything.

Kurt had to bite down on his lower lip to force the tomato color that was trying to coat his cheeks to stay at bay, especially after Blaine sent him a small, secretive smile.

Brittany and Santana were next to leave, letting them know that the pair of them would go out in the morning as soon as the rental places opened up to trade vehicles and bring back breakfast. Their room was ceremoniously two away from Kurt and Blaine's room, which meant that he might not actually have to listen to them together for the first night in a week.

Quinn hustled out quickly after that. She thanked him again for picking her up, and ensured them, though she didn't need to, that she'd contribute on the way however she could.

Then they were alone.

"I… I'm going to shower." Kurt stammered, looking at Blaine who was sitting on the other side of the bed with pizza boxes between them. Blaine had already showered, and while he'd seen Blaine with wet hair a million times before, something about the way rogue beads of water were rolling off his curls and down his ears before plummeting to the bed was doing something to the core of Kurt's stomach, making it twist upon itself and press into his lungs.

Blaine merely nodded, and if he was thinking about the fact that they were alone together in a hotel room after the conversation they'd had earlier - it didn't show. He stood up, starting to pick up garbage left behind from the group, and doing a bit of a clean up as Kurt retreated into the bathroom that had more tiles missing from the shower wall than on. Despite that, and any worry over damaging the exposed walls, Kurt took the longest shower he could manage, until all he was getting was cold water coming out of the spray which lacked pressure, which did little to soothe the heat rising through him at the image of who was in the room outside of the bathroom.

He combed through his hair more times than was necessary, having to rub the fog off the mirror to look at himself. Kurt tied a towel around his waist and looked at his reflection, turning to check himself out from every angle he could before taking the towel off and doing the same. Then the towel went back on and he combed his hair again, holding his face close to the mirror to double check that he didn't have any pimples threatening to show themselves at this, most inopportune, time.

By the time he exited the bathroom, the fog had disappeared, and his hair was mostly dry.

Blaine had successfully cleaned up the hotel room, going so far as to put the bags of garbage he had collected in a neat pile by the door and making the life of whomever would come by when they checked out to clean the room a little easier. The TV was still on, droning about the local weather reports, but Blaine wasn't watching it. He had dozed off sitting up against the headboard where he had probably been watching TV before sleep took over.

It made walking to the bed a lot easier.

Kurt turned off the TV, then turned off the main light and turned on the one beside the bed before crawling in beside Blaine. Very carefully, so as not to wake Blaine with any shifting in the mattress, he pulled off the towel he had so carefully bound around his waist and let it fall to the floor. Feet, then legs and pelvis were slid under the sheet, and then, and only then, did Kurt gently nudge Blaine.

"Hey… wake up sleepyhead."

Blaine's face squished up before he squinted his eyes apart and let out a yawn, looking over to Kurt and grinning. "Hey. I thought you would wash through the night at the rate you were going."

"I wanted to be clean." Kurt admitted, letting his eyes fall from Blaine's sweet caramel eyes, to his plush red lips, and then down to the black T-shirt and boxers he was wearing. "Kiss me?"

Blaine didn't respond with words, bending over and cupping the side of Kurt's face with a soft hand as he connected their lips with a small smack. From there things seemed easier, as far as Kurt was concerned anyhow. Kissing was easy. He could kiss Blaine forever. The moment Blaine's lips touched Kurt - it was like instant bliss, a hot steam filling his mind with nothing else but the words 'more, more, more'. He registers his own hands reaching up to hold either side of Blaine's face in much the same way Blaine has done with his hand, but then, on a particularly drunken kiss, drops one of those hands from Blaine's face to his chest, sliding his fingers down over the damnable T-shirt that makes Kurt feel like he's at a disadvantage.

"Can you…" Kurt manages to get out when they stop for a breath, tugging on the fabric of the shirt to make his point when their lips magnetically attach in the middle of his question. Blaine's hand leaves his face then, moving with the other to pull his shirt up as much as he can without breaking the kiss until it's hanging around his neck like a gaudy black scarf which Kurt yanks off him and tosses back behind them to the floor on the next break they take for air.

He's seen Blaine's chest before. Hell, he's been snuggled up against it more nights than not in the past months, but Kurt hasn't let his fingers explore until now. Blaine's chest is rougher than his own, the dark hair there just as curly as the hair on Blaine's head, but more coarse than smooth. Each hair he draws his fingers through on his travels springs back into place after its been pulled along with his fingers as far as it can go, and the tug of hair on his chest doesn't seem to hurt Blaine, in fact, the noise he makes into Kurt's mouth every time the fingers run over the bump of his nipples suggest that he likes it.

Languidly they kiss, and eventually Blaine's fingers begin tracing over the expanse of Kurt's own skin which feels like it's on fire and numb all at the same time. He immediately gets why Blaine likes his own nipples being touched when Blaine's thumb rolls in a circle around one of Kurt's. There are nerves there he never knew he had before, and ones that apparently connect right to his cock.

To this point, Kurt had managed to keep his hips back far enough to keep a respectable distance from Blaine's, and so they haven't done anything more than kiss and touch one another from the stomach up, but the ache that Kurt's feeling in the parts of him that have needy nerve endings is becoming unbearable and he yanks his head back from Blaine's, looking at him with what he's sure are crazed looking eyes and thankfully finding Blaine just as disheveled and broken when he looks at him with space between them.

"I want everything."

"Everything?" Blaine squeaks out, his voice cracking as he chokes out the question.

"Everything." Kurt asserts with a quick nod. All the hesitation he had in the bathroom is gone now that most of the blood flow has been directed to keeping his dick pulsing below the sheets.

"I don't… I don't think we can do everything in one go Kurt." Blaine half-coughs, half-sputters out. His eyes never leave Kurt's face, not even to check his aura as Blaine does if he's unsure about how Kurt is feeling.

"I want to do as much as possible then." Kurt says, trying to keep his voice steady and level. He needs to ensure Blaine knows he's serious about what he's suggesting, and that when it comes to this.

"O-okay… " Blaine is less convincing, but when Kurt allows himself to peek down at Blaine's boxers to see the tent that's formed there, he knows Blaine is just as eager as he is.

Blaine moves further back then, instead of closer, and Kurt watches as he grabs the bag with treats from their stop on the road. All becomes clear though when Blaine doesn't pull out chocolate or pop, but a little bottle with clear liquid and a small, convenience sized boxed of condoms. He doesn't look at Kurt when he does it, but Kurt watches his face all the same - cheeks redder than Kurt's ever seen them before.

"Santana insisted…."

"I fucking love Santana." Kurt snaps, reaching a hand up to wrap around the back of Blaine's head and pull him in for a greedy kiss. Their lips are swollen at this point, and Kurt can't feel much through the fuzzy feeling in them, but he hungers all the same for it. They resume kissing for awhile. It's comfortable, it eases them back into touching one another, and it's Blaine who takes the next step this time - sliding himself out of his boxers with an awkward wiggle against the bed and another toss of clothing in the recently tidied room.

Kurt wants to look, but doesn't want to make Blaine feel uncomfortable, and so instead Blaine slides himself under the sheet with Kurt, letting their cocks say hello first. Head against head. It isn't planned and it makes them both suck in a surprised breath when it happens that they bump against one another, taking in enough air to fuel what comes next.

Blaine reaches up with one hand to rub Kurt on the limb of his wing, and the other hand dives under the blanket to touch Kurt without the impediment of fabric between their skin. It makes Kurt freeze, and then roll his eyes back in his head as he emits a noise he doesn't recall giving permission to be let out - a long, low, noise that could qualify as a moan or a whine depending on who was asked.

He has to tell himself to not lose himself then, because it would be so easy to just let himself go and come all over Blaine's hand - but he's done that, or at least something akin to that, once before, and he's resolute on getting as much as he can out of the night because who knows when they'll have another shot. So Kurt reaches down as well, making Blaine whimper when he takes his dick in his hand.

Kurt has felt himself a thousand times before, and has always wondered what the big deal was about touching someone else there, but he gets it the instant he has Blaine in hand. There's a weight against his fingers, warm, throbbing, and so different from himself. He's prettier sure Blaine would win in a contest of girth between them both, and he's also pretty sure Blaine has more veins - but that could just be because Kurt is so much more attuned since he's not holding himself, but someone else's dick in his hand.

Blaine makes the prettiest little moan when Kurt tugs upwards on his dick, and it prompts Kurt to do it again and again, until Blaine's hands have left Kurt's skin and are gripping at the sheet on either side of him.

"Kurt… Kurt… I… You need to…"

Kurt gets the gist of it because he's painfully hard and ready to break just at the touch of Blaine's skin against his own. He releases Blaine, listens to him pant and catch his breath, and then carefully pulls back the sheet so they're both there, exposed in the glow of the ancient lamp on the bedside table.

Blaine is gorgeous. Kurt already knew that, but to see him all, wrecked and hard and all for Kurt does something more to Kurt's heart. It tugs at him in his chest much like he had been tugging on Blaine before, and his love for this man is cemented. He had never wanted anything, anyone, so much.

When Blaine's breath steadies, he looks at Kurt. First his eyes stay strung on Kurt's face before glancing around his head, checking his aura as he does, and then drifting downward. Kurt feels like he's on show, and blushes furiously, looking away then. He knows Blaine is looking him over, but doesn't want to watch his reaction. No matter how much Kurt has developed over the years, inside he's still that pudgy, pale kid that got made fun of, and he worries that Blaine will be able to see that when he looks at him naked.

It's probably good that he has his head turned away though, because the next surprise is the best way he could have ever been reassured of Blaine's attraction to him. Kurt feels the bed shift, and then there's something warm and wet rolling against the flesh on the underside of his penis. If he had been watching Blaine advance upon him, he might have fled, but instead he's moaning loudly and arching his back, using the limbs of his wings to hold him up with strength he didn't knew existed. Blaine's mouth drops little by little over his dick, and is so perfectly tight and warm. He jerks himself forward without meaning to, and then snaps his head up to look at Blaine apologetically, finding that in that millisecond Blaine has dropped his head down over Kurt's length even further instead of pulling off. The sight makes something in him rumble. Blaine's cheeks hollowed out and face red as he peers up at Kurt to watch his reaction and aura. Those damned lashes are fanned over his cheekbones and the innocence they suggest is completely contrary to what Blaine is doing, and just like Blaine was moments ago, Kurt is ready to burst.

"Blaine, please, I need…."

Just as Kurt had before, Blaine gets it and pops off Kurt slowly, making a popping noise as he pulls off and lets Kurt's cock bob in place, mindlessly seeking out the warmth stolen from it.

"Lube… we need… lube." Kurt chokes out, struggling to get his words out as he watches Blaine lick over his lips with thoughtfulness in his eyes. He's tasting me, Kurt thinks to himself, and groans again without any sort of physical stimulus prompting it.

Blaine grabs the plastic convenience store bag again with trembling hands, struggling to first uncap the lid of the lube and then cursing when he discovers there's a security seal which he uses his teeth to rip off. Lube splatters everywhere with the ferocity of the opening, and Kurt swipes up a blob of it off his stomach with a finger which he draws down towards his own ass, moving slowly until Blaine see's what he's doing and stares.

He looks starving.

They haven't talked about topping or bottoming, how to do this, or, hell, how to even do it. All Kurt has ever seen is some pamphlets on the mechanics of the act which have definitely not prepared him for any of this. He's hoping Blaine knows at least as much as he knows, if not more.

All this lead up would really suck if they couldn't figure out the next part after all.

"How… with your wings….?" Blaine sputters out, letting the bottle of lube drip over his fingers as he seems to have forgotten to close it up as he watches Kurt.

Kurt rubs the little bit of lube he has against his hole once he finds it, sucking in a sharp breath. He's never done this to himself before, even though he's often fantasized about it, and felt the need for something to satisfy him in this way. He forgets the question Blaine asked for a moment, before he see's Blaine staring at him, waiting, and gasps out a response.

"Prep… first… We're supposed to prep."

Blaine just nods, reaching down with his now overlubed fingers and holding them right by Kurt's ass before stopping, looking up at Kurt for permission, which is given with a quick nod, and then joining Kurt's finger with one of his own.

"You have to tell me if it's too much… or what you want, or how… oh God Kurt…."

Kurt's hips seem to have a mind of their own, bucking back against Blaine's finger once he's come close and breaching the tight ring of muscle that's supposed to block the outside from the inside. It surprises Blaine too, and Kurt can hear him suck in a breath as he watches his finger get swallowed up by Kurt. It burns, especially at the entrance, but it satisfies something deep in the pit of Kurt's stomach and as his head tucks in against his chest he whimpers.

"Move it."

Blaine complies, far too slowly for Kurt's liking. Snails have moved faster than Blaine's ever careful finger does. Kurt knows Blaine's head is in the right place, trying to be careful for Kurt's sake, but, damn it all, Kurt just wants what he demanded earlier - everything.

"Another."

Blaine's questioning face resurfaces to check that Kurt is sure, and then slips in a second finger along with the first. One finger felt tolerable once the burn wore off, but two… two introduced Kurt to the idea that pleasure could be felt too. He was vaguely aware that he was making noise at that point, but between trying to keep his hips still and savoring the feeling of being spread apart, he didn't know what exactly and at what volume the sounds were.

"You want more?" Blaine whispered after a minute. He had reached up with his free hand to draw circles around Kurt's nipples, each in turn, and Kurt babbled out something in response that clearly was affirmative because a third finger was sunk in.

Kurt completely understood why this was a thing.

All it took was a couple slides back and forth for Blaine to hit something inside Kurt. Something that made his eyes snap back open and for him to cry out to the heavens and whatever god might exist in thanks that they had come up with creating such a sweet spot.

"Blaine… Blaine… I'm not going…"

"You want me to…?"

Kurt's breath came out in a long, shaky shudder. He looked back at his wings, and then back at Blaine. He looked at Blaine's cock, which has a sliver of precum reflecting the light from the lamp on the tip, and then looked back at his ass which was still gracefully managing to take in Blaine's magnificently long piano fingers.

"Lay back on the bed."

Blaine let out some kind of choking noise and pulled his fingers free of Kurt's ass, which immediately hissed its displeasure up to Kurt's brain. It wanted more, not less. Kurt had to do this right though. He grabbed the little box of condoms and, with hands just as shaky as Blaine's had been earlier, fumbled to open the plastic packaging and then get out one of the individually wrapped items he needs, tossing the rest of the box to the floor and spreading out the remainder of the condoms on the floor with the discard.

Blaine laid back, as instructed, watching Kurt and mouthing words to Kurt who couldn't focus on translating them as he finally managed to crack open the damned paper keeping him from the condom.

"Give it to me…." Blaine cooed then, and Kurt was all too glad to give it away. Packaging upon packaging would get in the way of his orgasm and given how needy he felt, he felt like he might feel obliged to write a nasty letter to the manufacturer on the matter.

Blaine seemed to slip the condom over himself with ease, tossing the packaging away. Then he looked at Kurt intently. It was his turn.

"Rub my wings… while…." Kurt uttered softly, crawling overtop of Blaine, who immediately reached out to put a hand on each. He carefully lined himself up and over Blaine's cock, looking back twice just to make sure, and then slowly let his hips fall, sinking down atop Blaine as they both let out a moan.

Perfect.

It took Kurt a whole minute to let himself descend, making Blaine's snail pace earlier seem positively cheetah-like. Thumbs were pressed against Blaine's hipbones to help brace himself as he allowed himself to get used to the feeling inside him. Foreign, weird, uncomfortable, and yet...

Perfect.

"You okay..?" Blaine asked weakly, staring up at Kurt who just nodded with equally meek effort before rolling his hips up. The drag burnt just as much as the plunge before it, but Kurt kept moving. This had to be worth it.

He kept at it, watching as Blaine's face contorted and then his head banged back into the pillows. Again the burn dissipated, and between the rub against what he was assuming was his prostate and the way Blaine was frantically massaging his fingers into the sensitive points on his wings, Kurt knew he was going to rank embarrassingly short on stamina.

"Blaine… Blaine… please… keep rubbing my wings… I'm going to-"

"Ung!" Blaine responded, his own pelvis jerking up inside of Kurt without warning, making Kurt gasp and then shudder as he watched Blaine's eyes squint and his brows knot together. He held himself up there, inside of Kurt, his fingers still moving on their own as he reached his own climax before sinking back into the bed - a boneless heap of sweaty man.

Blaine didn't forget Kurt though, moving one hand down from Kurt's wings and wrapping it around Kurt's still hard, pulsing cock. It was all Kurt needed for his own orgasm to hit, and hit it did. Swirls of white behind his eyelids, a buzzing in his fingertips and toes, and a feeling of everything being absolutely, positively…

Perfect.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Sorry for the late post. As usual, life happened. Crisis training, weddings, report cards, being sick, stupid people… the list goes on. If you haven't checked it out, go to my tumblr at .com to see the new artwork for Part III of Hell and High Water made by Rocketsurgey! So hot! Can't wait to start sharing the final part of the epic with you all! :D** _

* * *

When consciousness hit Blaine, he ignored it, kept his eyes closed, and focused on the rise and fall of Kurt's chest where his head was resting. He listened to each bu-bump-bu-bump of Kurt's heart, and reveled in the feeling of his soft skin against Blaine's. They had fallen asleep wound up in one another, reciting 'I Love You's' like lullabies after cleaning themselves off and discarding the evidence of their romp. In an unexpected show of affection, Kurt had laid on his back, on top of his wings, and insisted Blaine come and use his chest as a pillow, then wrapping not only his arms around Blaine, but also his wings.

Which is why Blaine didn't want to move, didn't want to wake up. He probably could have been happy staying put forever. Kurt's wings didn't offer warmth, but they did offer security, and Blaine was sure that part of Kurt enveloping him like he had was the Kurt-equivalent of marking his territory. He was showing Blaine that Blaine was his, every much as Blaine knew by looking at Kurt, with the pinks and purples overtop of him when he looked Blaine's way, that Kurt was his.

He had slept dreamlessly, and it was probably for the best with what he had seen the day before. Blaine already had nightmares from his past haunting him, and now there would be more memories that would funnel into nightmares. That slaughter of innocents behind him made him feel like he was in every war movie or documentary he had ever watched. He understood now the forlorn look in the face of soldiers or prisoners of war. The things they had seen… the people they had seen fall in front of them, and yet they had to continue on and survive.

Thank goodness for Kurt, or Blaine wouldn't know what he was trying to survive for.

Bu-bump-bu-bump-bu-bump….

Blaine listened for as long as he could before curiosity got the best of him and he slit an eye open to glance at the ancient bedside clock, brown with a rotating display rather than the sleek digital ones that seemed to be everywhere else. Eight forty four. Still early. The plan was not to check out until absolutely necessary at eleven. Santana and Brittany would be going into the town in about fifteen minutes to switch up their ride (hopefully to something more comfortable), and bring back breakfast… all of which would take them a little while. At least that was what Blaine was hoping for as his other eye joined the first in opening and looked away from the clock and down Kurt's nude form.

Part of him was surprised to discovered that he really was in Kurt's arms (and wings) and not just imaging it, and they were both completely naked save for a sheet that had been kicked down the bed and now hung on their feet, more off the bed than on it. Blaine wouldn't have been surprised if it had all been a fantastic dream, because life simply couldn't have been that good in the midst of so much tragedy. He felt guilty for thinking it, knowing that he was still alive, and had shared something so wonderful with the man he loved while others had died. He suspected he'd always feel guilty for getting out when others hadn't. That was what the survivors of war always said after all.

Kurt made a soft, murmur in his sleep, and Blaine glanced back up to his face which was beginning to show the faintest bit of stubble. Blaine knew if he reached up to touch it that it would be soft, unlike his own coarse beard which came in furiously every morning, a constant cycle of vengeance for being shaved off each day. Kurt's beard, or what he had of a beard, was much more shy.

A flicker of mischievousness crept into Blaine's mind, and though no one else could see him do it, he grinned. Slowly, carefully, he pulled his head up so as not to disturb Kurt's slumber. The wings fell back as he sat up, bent back as far as the bones in them would allow and spread down to the floor. Blaine still wasn't used to the black feathers, but they had their charm, and who knew if the white ones would ever return. Regardless of the color his wings were, Kurt was gorgeous.

He shuffled back on the bed, watching Kurt's face to ensure his movements weren't going to wake him, and positioned his knees aside Kurt's hips, licking his lips over one last time before dropping his head down and taking Kurt's limp cock into his mouth and sucking on it gently as he tried to rouse it from its own slumber.

A moan escaped from Kurt then, and his hips squirmed beneath Blaine as the dick in his mouth reacted as expected, rising to full form under the workings of his lips and tongue. Inflating like a hard balloon, Blaine was soon gifted with a solid weight of flesh, pulsing as the blood worked through it, and sitting against his flattened tongue.

"Blaine…?"

He couldn't respond, too dedicated to making sure Kurt, with his sweetly scratchy morning voice, could only say more with whimpers, groans, and those gasping breaths. Blaine tried different things - rolling his tongue in circles over the length, lapping it up from bottom to top, and even sucking one of Kurt's balls into his mouth when he came up for air. Kurt became more vocal as time went on, his body going taunt underneath Blaine, and a hand reaching down to wind itself in Blaine's hair. It encouraged Blaine to increase his tempo, repeating the different licks and strokes that seemed to get Kurt the loudest, until, at last, Kurt screamed his name out and burst into Blaine's mouth.

He hadn't been expecting it, and in all the pornographic videos he'd seen, the guys never seemed to have an issue drinking it back joyously. However, it hit him square in the uvula and he made a small gagging noise and drew back as he coughed to regain his breath, watching Kurt tremble from above.

"Oh… god… waking up.. best way to…" Kurt mumbled, his eyes forming into slits as the bliss coated him in pink and purple and blue. Grabby hands were held out to Blaine, who took a moment to wipe off his now filthy chin and Kurt's crotch with the towel left beside the bed last night, before crawling into them where he was once again wrapped up in hands and wings.

"Sorry I choked a bit…"

"I wanted to warn you, but I couldn't even think clearly. That was fantastic." Kurt uttered lazily, pressing idle kisses into the curls on Blaine's head. "I thought I was having the best dream ever… and then… wow."

They laid there as long as they could, Blaine reviewing the techniques he had used in his head to file away for later as part of his 'notes on Kurt' kept in his brain, while Kurt eventually woke up completely and started stroking his fingers through Blaine's hair with the occasional contented hum.

"Can I return the favor?"

Blaine hadn't even been worried about it, just so happy to give Kurt whatever bit of joy he could manage in these trying times, but his dick was painfully hard, made alert by the noises Kurt had been making and maintained by the touch of Kurt's skin against his own. He looked up at Kurt with open eyes, lips twitching up into a grin which was enough of a response for Kurt to push him back by the shoulders onto the bed and then crawl backwards.

"NgggGH!" was all Blaine could come up with as Kurt's lips wrapped around his cock and rolled down his length. Without thinking it through, he reached down to clutch Kurt's hair with one hand while the other held back the headboard of the bed - more to brace himself than anything else. For admitting he didn't know much about sex, Kurt had caught on fast, twisting his tongue in ways Blaine couldn't predict and hollowing his cheeks out to suck Blaine's dick back into his mouth, as if trying to milk him for the antidote to some lethal poison he had consumed.

His mind became flashes of white, buzzes of bees, and ripples of water. There was no way he could think for more than a second at a time, and all he could do with those seconds was to appreciate how well Kurt's mouth fit over his cock.

It was over much too quickly. If Blaine could have made himself last longer, he would have. He thoroughly enjoyed being in Kurt the night before, but he also enjoyed being able to just lay back and take the pleasure as it was served to him. It was a damned good thing he had gone first that morning or he didn't think he'd have the mind to reciprocate like Kurt was.

Kurt, unlike Blaine, managed to maintain his composure enough to drink back the spunk Blaine shot back into his mouth, lifting his head afterwards and rubbing a tiny bit of dribble off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked… pleased with himself. Somehow Kurt looked more confident overall. Blaine couldn't possibly analyze it though. His mind had reverted to caveman mode where the only thing he could produce was grunts. Sex good.

The sheet was pulled up and over him at some point, and their positions from the night were swapped as Kurt set his cheek against the fur of Blaine's chest. Hands and wings were still wrapped around him, but not as possessive as they were lazy. Blaine wanted to spend all his mornings like this.

A thumping on the wall above the headboard shook them both out of their relaxation though, and Sebastian's wall-muted voice could be heard yelling through it.

"You two done yet?! I would like to watch the fucking news without having to hear you cry out one another's names!"

He should have been embarrassed, but Blaine just burst into a fit of laughter, quickly followed by Kurt. They laughed until they were gasping for air, Kurt pounding his fist into the mattress beside him while Blaine had an arm wrapped up around his stomach to make sure it didn't explode.

"I'm going to shower." Kurt announced after they had let out all their giggles, face beautifully red and tears still floating in the corners of his eyes. Blaine nodded, winking Kurt's way when Kurt caught him checking out his bare ass on the way to the bathroom. Everything was different now between them. Sex did change things… but in the most wonderful way possible.

Blaine guessed he should tell Kurt the whole truth about his past.

While Kurt showered, filling the whole hotel room with steam, Blaine cleaned up the laundry and remnants of the night before. He grinned at the tied off condom in the wastebasket before ensuring that he piled more garbage on top of it - not wanting anyone else to see it when they came in for breakfast. Then he made the bed to avoid having their friends see just how well used it was.

When Kurt was done, Blaine took his place in the shower, cleaning off every nook and cranny on him to get out all the accumulated sweat. He didn't know if and when he'd be able to shower like this again, and even though it was far from a classy place, it seemed like a castle compared to what they had come from. There was privacy, hot water available, and the promise of a decent meal to come.

Kurt had the news on when Blaine came out, nodding towards it and patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. He had dressed while Blaine had been cleaning, lose sweats and a T-shirt over his costume, and Blaine pulled on a comfortable set of clothing over his own well worn before joining Kurt at his side.

"Canadian news channel available in this place. It's so much less dramatic than our usual news station coverage." Kurt explained as Blaine looked at the unfamiliar news anchors with curiosity, talking about a city that he wasn't familiar with.

They watched together then, enjoying the mundane tales of a moose crossing through an intersection, a mayoral race, and details of a hockey game - a sport and teams that Blaine was certainly not familiar with.

The rest of their group filed in after awhile. First Sebastian, who complained bitterly about being room sandwiched between them and the other couple, apparently having to listen to all manner of noises through the night and into the morning. Then Quinn came in, still looking tired and now sporting a goose egg where her bump had swollen on the side of her head. She had borrowed some clothing from Brittany until she could procure some of her own, and looked adorable in the hoodie she wore that was clearly too big for her.

Santana and Brittany pulled up in a new van, thankfully a minivan this time, and brought in bags of doughnuts and trays of coffee which were greedily decimated by the entire crew as they continued to watch news footage from north of the border, Brittany getting excited every time they showed a shot of the moose travelling through the town. The poor beast was probably lost and confused by the cameramen following him in order to give amusement to the human masses.

"We interrupt your normal newscast for an update on the metahuman situation from the Great Lakes region." The news suddenly announced, flashing them with footage of smoke billowing out over an all too familiar looking forest where the compound had once been.

"Shit… I don't want to see this…" Santana cursed, reaching for the remote when Sebastian swatted her hand away from it.

"Look!"

The video feed has switched from the burning of the compound, as seen from across the border, to that of a familiar face - Dr. Ryan, who was being interviewed by a young asian, reporter.

"We're here with Dr. Bryan Ryan, who, according to himself and the other metahumans who were able to cross the border, the resident doctor at the compound that the United States military attacked yesterday. Dr. Ryan, tell our viewers how many individuals were at the compound you served at."

"As of the morning of the attack we had two hundred seventeen individuals staying there." Dr. Ryan replied stoically. He had a purple bruise under his left eye which seemed to be swelling, and a bandaid plied over his chin to cover some other injury. Otherwise, Blaine was thankful to see he looked no worse for wear.

"All metahumans?"

Dr. Ryan nodded, and then looked at the camera steadily, "Myself included."

"Shit." Santana cursed at him through the screen. "You idiot. Don't out yourself!"

"Can you describe the events leading up to your arrival here Dr. Ryan?"

Why weren't they arresting him? Why were they still interviewing him? The group looked from person to person in the room with their silent queries before locking back onto the screen to see what awaited their old friend.

"Yes. Yesterday morning I had just overseen the arrival of a new refugee to the compound and was called away to handle the day to day work that comes with caring for that many people. It wasn't long afterwards when we, the other permanent residents of the compound and I that is, heard gunfire. We called for everyone to evacuate to one of two exit tunnels that had recently been dug and then ran ourselves. The military was shooting up everyone they came across that wasn't in their uniform-"

"Metahumans weren't fighting back?"

"No. I didn't see anyone fighting back. Just running."

The anchorwoman looked to the screen, addressing the audience, "That confirms other reports we have heard as well."

Dr. Ryan just rolled his eyes and continued, "There were bodies everywhere. I stopped to try and help those that were only wounded, only to have a bullet graze my chin. My ability is to turn to goop, and I couldn't hold myself in human form when that happened. I turned into a pile of mush and they didn't see it happen so they just kept marching by my gelatinous form and shooting everyone else they came across. No one was fighting. Most of us don't have big powers like the ones the United States media likes to show to scare their people… most of us… well… we have powers that don't hurt people."

"Like turning into goop?"

Dr. Ryan looked ready to strangle the woman as he turned his eyes back on her, but managed to spit out a very forced. "Like goop."

"Dr. Ryan, you're one of the four that made it across the lake to Canada. Can you give us your perspective on that part of your journey?"

There was a sigh, and Dr. Ryan ran his hand over his hair before he spoke - his body shooting off the green and gold lights that told Blaine how uncomfortable he was. "Once the military guys went past me, I was left in a hallway with the bodies of so many people I had been taking care of… people that had come to the compound to hide for their own safety. I knew I had to go, but before I did I checked the vital signs of everyone I passed by-"

"In goop form or human form?"

"Human." Dr. Ryan clarified, a shot of irritation spiking out of him with a red burst. "No one was alive… so I left the way they had come in and ran for the lake. It was there I met up with a group of metahumans that had managed to escape… about twenty or so… and we began swimming across the lake. We didn't see any other alternative…."

"Then what happened?"

"The military caught up with us. Started shooting them down in the water."

"You escaped for a second time."

Blaine could only read the color auras of people he watched, but if he could read minds, he knew by the way Dr. Ryan was glaring at the reporter he would have heard something to the effect of 'Obviously'.

"Yes. One of the people I was crossing with was hit. She was right behind me and sort of covered my turning into gelatinous form again. In that form I was able to get across without any more fire being drawn my way."

"Amazing."

"No. Not amazing." Dr. Ryan snapped, looking first at the woman who was taken aback by the outburst, and then at the camera, "Assuming no one else made it out alive besides myself and my three companions, that's two hundred and thirteen dead just because they were trying to hide from the government!"

"The United States government." The woman clarified with a nod. "The Canadian government has been publicly denouncing these acts-"

"While people die." Dr. Ryan spat angrily. "People don't care unless they're the ones being hurt. It's like Rwanda again. The Holocaust, Holodomor, Cambodia, Armenians… how many times do groups of people have to be targeted before there's no one left in the world? We didn't do anything. Those people who sought out refuge in the compound? They had families and loved ones that sent them away thinking they'd be safer there. Now what do we tell those families? The lies that are being perpetrated by the United States government? That those people were attacking the military and so deserved to die? Your government doesn't care. They're not out there stopping this from happening. They're not refusing to trade or boycott the USA. They're not doing a damned thing but saying a few words of regret!"

That was the point Dr. Ryan disappeared from the screen, to be replaced again by the anchorman that had announced the change from the local news. He was holding up a pile of papers in front of him, doing his very best to look serious, though Blaine could plainly see the worry drizzled through his aura.

"The Prime Minister will be having a press conference later today to address questions regarding this in the latest of metahuman incidents out of the United States. We now return you to your local news."

The moose popped back up on screen once more, but not one of them cared this time as they exchanged nervous glances.

"There were that many people there?"  
"Shit. Canada is much friendlier than I thought."  
"I wonder who else made it out with Dr. Ryan…"  
"Do you think we're the only other survivors other than those four?"

"My dad probably thinks I'm dead…"

That last voice was Kurt's, and Blaine tuned in to him immediately. He pulled Kurt in against him and held him close, rubbing the space on his back between where his wings grew out. "We'll get a message to him… we'll make sure he knows."

"Message after message after message…" Kurt sighed into Blaine's shoulder, the pair ignored as the rest of the group chattered noisily. "... at what point will it be that he waits for a message and never gets it? Maybe he's better off thinking I'm dead now. At least he won't have to keep holding out for the inevitable."

"No. One day you'll be able to be with your dad again. We'll be able to finish school. We can even start a family."

"Family Mr. Anderson? Little premature to talk like that don't you think?"

Blaine ignored the question, speaking freely of all the silly little dreams he kept close to his heart. "I'll rebuild my comic book collection and we'll have a giant bed - big enough for your wings. You'll make sure I practice on the instruments we'll have and you'll even sing along to keep me motivated. Your dad and Carole and even Finn will visit and we'll have Christmas and Easter and birthdays at our home and never have to worry about being shot or beaten or used as a media prop."

"Blaine…"

"I have to believe it'll happen Kurt… I can't just hope to survive…"

Another sigh against his shoulder before Kurt lifted his head from it and looked Blaine straight in the eyes. He nodded once, forced a smile out, and let his eyes grow dewy for Blaine to see. "Okay then."

Relief pulsed through Blaine and he smiled back. "Okay."

Just as they had the night before, Kurt was rushed into the new van under their cover. Sebastian took care of checking them out and then they were on the road again. In this van Kurt had to keep his wings covered up with a blanket because it had actual seats and windows down the side. More care would have to be taken to be covert, especially since they were a series of small towns they couldn't avoid on this stretch of the journey.

Blaine took his turn at driving, sad to be apart from Kurt's side, but glad to be in charge of the music for his stint at the wheel as he subjected the group to the latest top forty hits, singing along for added torture.

They couldn't find another motel that seemed decent as the sun began to fall, so they drove into a state park, moved an iron gate that told them not to go past, and went past it before closing it back up. Then they travelled as far out as they thought would be out of sight and hearing of any suspicious persons and set up a camp for the night. Quinn took care of setting the fire, Brittany and Santana went to wash laundry in a nearby lake, and Sebastian set up some ropes with bells around the perimeter to alert them of anyone coming close. Kurt took care of dispensing the latest round of snack foods acquired at yet another on the way convenience store and Blaine.. well Blaine just watched, his mind full of questions that the day had not answered.

"You okay?" Kurt asked finally, a whisper gifted to him as they snuggled together between two sleeping bags that they had zipped together.

"Mmm… I'm just wondering if Washington is really the next best step. Maybe we should head to Canada, or maybe we should go back… find your family…"

"Blaine… there is no going back, only forward."

He sighed at the simple way Kurt threw aside his suggestions and nestled back in Kurt's arms, once again the smaller spoon and once again bound not only in blankets but wings as well.

"I need to tell you…"

"I love you."

"Huh? I mean… I love you too." Blaine glanced over his shoulder to find the gentle twinkle of Kurt's blue-green eyes. "But that's not what I was going to say."

"I just always want to make sure you know." Kurt said softly before pecking Blaine on the cheek. "Now tell me what you need to tell me."

"There's.. things I've never told you, or anyone for that matter."

"You're not secretly straight are you?"

"What?! No…" Blaine caught the glimmer of playful jest in Kurt's tone then and the flicker of amusement in his face. "Serious… I'm trying to be serious here."

"Okay, okay… tell me then. I won't interrupt."

Blaine sucked in a solid breath, just in case what he was about to tell Kurt required him to not breathe for the moment. It seemed huge. He had never spoke of it to anyone. Never let it show. Always tried to move forward, like Kurt insisted they did now, but it seemed wrong to just leave the past behind them and risk Kurt never knowing the full extent of Blaine's crimes.

"After… I found out about my powers. When I projected back against those boys attacking me after the Sadie Hawkins dance… I had… nightmares…."

Kurt look like he was ready to say something, but caught his lower lip between his teeth and nodded Blaine's way.

"I was attacked over and over again at night. Memories of that attack. I couldn't control what I could do then… and my mom would try to console me… but I kept projecting my fear onto her through my dreams… yet she still came, night after night, long after my dad had begun to avoid me and look at me like he didn't really know me… She kept coming… and I kept having the nightmares… and even though her hair started to gray prematurely and wrinkles formed on her face at an alarming rate… she came to my bed and helped me through it…."

God. He remembered those nights. How thankful he had been for his mother, who loved him despite the curse he bore. His father didn't say anything against him then, but didn't say anything to him either. He knew they argued behind their bedroom door about him, but it seemed like the least of his worries at that point in his life.

"One night… my nightmares were worse than normal…. I couldn't seem to escape them at all. Even when I awoke I still saw the faces of those boys, twisted in hatred and then in the pain of the fear I gave them. I wanted it to end. So I kept projecting, thinking they were truly there to haunt me… I kept projecting…."

"Blaine." Kurt broke in, voice choked. He knew where this was going. He was smart. Blaine continued anyhow.

"I heard my dad's voice then. For the first time in what seemed like forever yelling at me. It was what really woke me…. and I saw what I had done… my mom… mommy…." He choked as the image filled his mind. "Her hair was all gray… she had broken the glass on my bedside table and slashed her own wrists to end the pain…. I thought she… I thought she was them…."

"Blaine…"

"Dad covered… and sent me to the compound. He knew some people that knew some people. Set up an account. Told me never to come near him or my older brother… who was already older and had moved out thankfully… As soon as I got better control over myself and my powers I went to the farmhouse… where no one could be hurt by my nightmares…"

"Blaine…. babe…"

"You did though… That's why I got so upset… I can't have that happen to you Kurt…"

"Oh… Blaine…"

"I just… I love you so much…"

Kurt hugged him tightly then, enough to limit his air intake and thereby stop him from rambling on. He had begun crying at some point, silent tears streaking down his face as the memories clung onto his mind, freed from the box he had opened inside of him. As Blaine let the tears fall, Kurt continued to hold him tightly, squeeze him and whisper all the sweet words he could to Blaine. Darling, sweetheart, my love… all of it absorbed in through his ear and down to his heart. Finally, there were no more tears left him him. His eyes were red and hard and raw, and he found he was clutching onto Kurt's arms holding him tightly.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't want to scare you away."

"Blaine…"

"My mom always said that everyone had an angel looking out for them… and I didn't want to scare mine away."


	15. Chapter 15

_**God I'm so sorry for taking so long on this. I'm having an allergic reaction to the insulation in the basement and my contractor has been in hospital so he can't seal it up which means I wake up blind half the time because my eyes are so swollen. Add to that a paper being due for one of my master's classes that's eaten up all my free writing time and what you have is a very apologetic author here begging for your forgiveness and your reviews.** _

_**We'll be hitting the climax and end in the next few chapters, so stay tuned. I would like to have this all wrapped up by Christmas so I can start posting the final parts of H &HW (two chapters of that written). Crazie-crissie is creating an animated short for that story as well, which looks fabulous from what I've seen so far, and suitfer created a very orgasmic looking poster for part III that can be seen on my tumblr page.** _

_**Otherwise… I really don't know what to do about **** dying in the last episode of The Walking Dead….. Really random I know, but it's been on my mind.** _

* * *

Before Kurt's mother had passed away, she had become incredibly shaky and clumsy - a side effect of the drugs she was being given to make her remaining time pain free. She was always accidentally knocking things over, or mistargeting hugs, or just tripping over her own feet. She apologized for it endlessly, reciting that she didn't want to be a burden to her boys, and that she was afraid she might accidentally hurt them in the process of making one of her fumbles.

Burt always shrugged it off, insisting that she was anything but a burden, and gracefully helping her clean up things she broke or putting a fresh bandage on a scratch she had given herself. At the time, Kurt hadn't really understood it all. He remembered being angry because he knew that his mom only had so long to live, and that it didn't seem right that that time was spent at home, trying to act normal, when absolutely nothing about what was happening seemed normal at all. Despite growing wings, being outed to the public, and now escaping from the military, those last days of his mother's were the days Kurt was most angry in life. Of everything that had happened, that seemed to him to be the least fair.

Now, as an almost-adult, Kurt realized that at least he had it easy compared to how Blaine had lost his mother. Kurt wasn't at fault for the disease that ravaged his mother from the inside, and had gotten to say goodbye, and no matter how much Blaine didn't mean to hurt his mother, he still had. He was at fault, even if he hadn't intended it, and it was no wonder to Kurt anymore why Blaine had broken down that night his fears had shot into Kurt during his nightmare.

Maybe that was why Blaine had furiously clutched onto Kurt that night he had revealed the truth of his past. Even in his sleep he had kept his hold on Kurt while Kurt stared up at the stars in that cold, autumn evening, trying to make sense of what Blaine had told him and trying to decide what to do with that information. It was probably why, too, Blaine had glanced his way nervously throughout the next day, and sat especially close to Kurt as they drove to the west, though never said a word. It was definitely why, when they found another campground out in the middle of nowhere for the following night, why Blaine looked his way worriedly and finally squeaked out:

"Can I still sleep beside you?"

That simple question made Kurt's heart flame up for reasons he couldn't pinpoint, and he looked at Blaine with a furrowed brow and pursed lips, looking as petulant as he could.

"Of course you dork."

Kurt watched as Blaine sighed in relief and zipped their sleeping bags together, crawling in and shifting as far to one side as he could to allow Kurt, with his obnoxiously sized wings, to join him.

For awhile they were quiet again, Blaine looking and then not-looking at Kurt. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't seem to summon the courage to, and Kurt just wasn't sure what he could say to make Blaine feel better. He thought of his mother, how his dad had stayed by her side until the end, and then well past it when the hospice workers came to collect her lifeless body from the bed they had shared. Even though his dad knew the end was coming, it didn't stop him from blubbering like a baby.

What had Blaine gone through then, not anticipating the worst for his mother, and then realizing he was at fault for it?

Kurt wrapped his arms up around Blaine, pulling him chest to chest and kissing his temple.

"I love you y'know?"

Blaine made a sort of choked noise, arms clinging around Kurt in turn and smothering the small cry he made into Kurt's shoulder where no one else could hear it. Kurt grimaced, if only because the feeling of slimy snuffles on his skin made his skin crawl no matter why it had happened, or by whom. Regardless, he held onto Blaine and let him drain his sadness into his flesh, reaching up to stroke his fingers through Blaine's curls, desperately in need of detangling spray or a decent conditioner since Kurt's fingers kept getting blocked by hairs bound together.

"I love you too… thank you…" Blaine finally uttered when his tear reserves had been depleted.

"I'm not worried you know…" Kurt whispered, mindful of the other members of their group sleeping nearby. "If that's what you're thinking. I'm not worried that you'd ever hurt me. You're the most gentle person I've ever met."

Another sniffle, before "I didn't mean to hurt my mom though."

"But you have it under control now… I trust you."

More sniffles, and then an increase in the strength put into the hold Blaine had around his waist. "Thank you."

In a way, Kurt expected that there would be more that needed to be said about the matter, or more therapy at least, the best he could offer, to help Blaine through the memory, but for now, both of them seemed relieved by the acceptance of one another. He wondered if Blaine had considered trying to end their relationship out of worry for his ability to control his abilities and inadvertently hurting Kurt, but the way Blaine held onto him for dear life told him otherwise, and thank goodness too.

He was able to sleep that night, heavily too, a mixture of exhaustion from not sleeping right the night before and of alleviated worry that had spent the past twenty four hours bound up in his muscles and bones. Blaine snuggled in close beside him, a veritable furnace that kept him warm throughout the chill of the night, and he was only awakened by Santana and and Brittany groaning, in a way he immediately knew meant was pleasure now, and though it was the last thing that should have turned him on, he found that his brain wasn't the only thing coming to attention.

Blaine had turned during sleep, snuggling back into Kurt's arms with his ass rounded up against Kurt's crotch. It made everything worse, and Kurt muted a groan of his own as his cock slid, from within the confines of his sweatpants, against Blaine's equally clothed ass cheeks. He tried to think of everything to make his erection go down. His grandma, socks with holes in them, girls - but it didn't work, and between his dick and the blush in his cheeks, his blood was focused on everything but what his brain was offering up images of.

"Ooo… Santana… right there!"  
"Oh Brit Brit… you know how I like that!"

"Earplugs Quinn? I picked some up at the last shop."

"Oh god yes. Thanks Seb."

There was a shuffled exchange near the dead campfire and Kurt was hoping the brief distraction would be enough to make his cock lose interest. Unfortunately, it was far from the case, and, acting on a whim, he decided to throw caution to the wind.

Kurt planted his lips on Blaine's neck, pressing soft kisses along the line leading up the side of his head to his earlobe. It was enough to make Blaine stir with a sleepy "Hrrng?" followed up by a small whine as Kurt sucked a small spot on the spot behind and below the ear before him.

"Kurt…. everyone…." Blaine whispered, grinding his ass back against Kurt's crotch as he must have recognized the hard being pressed against him there.

"Has earplugs in or is busy themselves." Kurt whispered back, right into Blaine's ear before resuming sucking a path back down Blaine's neck to a very appreciative audience.

It was enough reason for Blaine to push his pants down, ass bare to Kurt who shoved his down into the bottom of the sleeping bag as well and moaned right into Blaine's ear, deep and dirty, as his cock slid between Blaine's perfectly rounded, waiting cheeks.

Turning his head back, Blaine met his lips with Kurt's, letting their tongues explore the insides of one another's mouth sloppily as Kurt began to slide back and forth between Blaine's globe like curves, bringing one hand around to stroke Blaine's equally alert dick.

They were quieter than the girls, who provided a pornographic soundtrack across from them within their own shared sleeping bag, and more covered as Kurt snuck a wing out from their bag to shield them more from any prying eyes - though given Sebastian and Quinn's eagerness to mute them, he doubted either of them were peeking their way.

It took no time for either of them to come, making a mess of the inside of the sleeping bag they hadn't considered when they began, and cringing as they both slid their pants back on before sliding out and going to wash up using some water bottles they had bought the previous day.

Kurt didn't know how people went days without sex. One night without it had been tough enough.

"Should be lots of easy campsites from here on out." Blaine noted, looking over a folded out gas station map of the United States when Kurt got back from taking his morning pee. "North Dakota and Montana have smaller populations than what we're used to… lots of forests…"

"Hopefully we get there soon enough to make a decent shelter." Sebastian grumbled, pulling his sleeping bag around him - clearly cold. "I'm not a winter person."

Blaine snuffled a little, rubbing his nose over the back of his sleeve much to Kurt's inner discomfort. "Well you might have to become one if we can't figure out how to heat up whatever kind of shack the six of us can put together. I didn't take industrial arts in school so I'm not exactly sure what we'll be doing at that point."

It was the focus of conversation for the drive that morning - trying to figure out how they'd build a home for themselves. None of them had the skills necessary to even know how to frame a home, and the real shock was when they recognized that it was Kurt, out of them all, that had the most labor skills from working with his dad in the tire shop before his wings came in.

His dad was still in his thoughts when they drove up to a convenience store for snacks at lunch.

"Snack pack?" Blaine asked, getting a nod from Kurt, so used to being left behind for these runs. It was a good thing he had a strong bladder.

No cars were on the road at the little shop they had stopped at, stuck between a long stretch of nothingness and and even longer stretch of the same. It was then that Kurt noticed they had parked beside a pay phone, and really, what places still had payphones in the age of cellphones?

Regardless, he stared at it for a solid minute before scrambling up to grab some coins from the ashtray of the vehicle, grabbing a blanket, which he wrapped around his wings tightly, and quickly rushing out of the van.

The call was made quickly, his fingers knew the number even if his brain forgot, and he held his breath as he listened to the ringing on the other end.

"'ello. Hummel Tires and Lube."

"Hi! Is Burt Hummel there?" Kurt curled his toes up as he tried to place the unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line. It had been a long time, maybe his dad had hired new help.

"No siree.. Can I help yeh?"

"Uh.. no. Was looking for Burt specifically." His dad usually worked day hours. Hopefully he wasn't sick.

"Burt sold the place couple months ago. You want to talk to the new owner? Earl?"

A lump formed in Kurt's throat, his hands rapidly going sweaty as he shot the phone back onto the receiver, just in time for the group to come around the corner and see him standing there - dumb faced and about to vomit.

"Hey…" Blaine came up to his side while the rest shot him questioning glances and climbed into the van. "... what's wrong?"

"Dad sold the shop." was the mumbled response. "He loved the shop. He actually liked working on cars and getting grease under his nails…."

"Oh… ah… come on. Let's go into the van and talk about it in there."

Except he didn't. The whole thing made Kurt's stomach turn and he even ignored the offers of food from Blaine, who set the snacks he had gotten for Kurt to the side and just offered his side up for Kurt to rest against while his head ran circles. Did his dad do it to lobby the government full time? Was it some kind of anti-meta pressure? Was his health okay?

"I'm sure he had a good reason Kurt." Blaine finally said, holding a juicebox out to Kurt before turning his own head to sneeze into his elbow, sniffling afterwards. "Your dad's a smart guy."

Kurt sighed, taking a sip of the juice to appease Blaine and looking out the window, "I know… I just… worry. It was just the two of us for a long time, and it's still weird that it's not."

Blaine set a kiss to the top of Kurt's head at that, rejoining the group conversation about decorating the new place - some with ridiculously grandiose plans for a runaway hideout home. Kurt knew he'd be happy with a stove of some kind, especially given what they had escaped.

Whenever they drove into a more populated area, the radio was turned on to see if there was any metahuman news or to see if they could pick up any signals from out of Canada. For the most part, in the sleepy small towns they passed through, it was mostly local disc jockeys laughing about inane things and playing an inordinate amount of Rush. Music that reminded him of his dad even more.

"Hey guys, I know we're trying to stay low key, but maybe, tonight,... hotel again?" Blaine asked of the group in the front seats midafternoon.

There was conversation around it, to which Kurt stayed out of, and it was agreed. Everyone wanted a real shower and bed, and everyone also wanted to see what was on the news stations, a hope that there would be more news from north of the border.

They found a motel as soon as they could, wanting to relax and retire early. Even though driving consisted of sitting down, it was somehow exhausting in a way Kurt couldn't explain. Moreover, with all the detours they made to avoid the bigger towns, they ended up travelling down a lot of roads in ill repair that rocked their bodies with bumps and potholes to ensure they were all sore.

Just like they had at the motel a couple days past, everyone went to shower first, gathering in Kurt and Blaine's room for overly greasy delivery pizza. The news was turned on, and everyone watched quietly as a local anchor discussed a local Thanksgiving event in detail.

"No wonder it's so cold…" Santana muttered. "I didn't realize it was this late in the year."

There were a few nods to that. Without anything to plan for, time was measured more in seasons than in days, and Kurt also hadn't realized how long they had been in that cement hole in the ground. The last time he had seen his father had been around Valentine's day, and the only reason he had remembered that was he had been deliberating over getting or making something for Blaine to express how he felt at that point.

Local news switched to national news, a much more somber and serious news team, and a lot of discussion about some new economic plan, after which, there was an aerial shot given of a forest as one of the anchors narrated.

" _Beautiful North Dakota might be one of the places hosting a secret summit between top White House officials and delegates from several countries. The government has remained secretive about the exact location, but with Canada putting pressure on the White House to cease current metahuman containment, most analysts believe that a location near the northern border is most likely."_

Kurt was jabbed in the side by Sebastian's elbow, hissing as Sebastian noted enthusiastically, "That's right near where we are! Look! That's the highway we were on!"

"Shit man. Shut up. I want to listen to this." Santana growled from the other side of the cramped bed everyone was using as a seat.

" _Montana may also be a potential meeting spot with its low population and vast wilderness. Wilderness which the military has been scouring through to ensure no metahumans or pro-metahuman activists are camping within. Already there have been several reports of metahumans taken into custody after they have been found camping out in the forested areas away from civilization. Critics of government policy say metahumans have fled to such locations to avoid conflict, while supporters believe metahumans stay in these remote locations to bide time until they can attack. Whatever the case may be, security has been stepped up and many small towns near the northern border have been playing host to military groups that have been sent there to round up any rogue metahumans."_

"Oh shit… Blaine, are you psychic or something?"

Blaine shook his head, eyes glued to the screen still, in response to Santana's question. "No… I just thought it would be nice to stay at a hotel tonight."

"Damn. Lucky then."

Kurt mentally agreed, though he knew luck had little to do with it. Knowing Blaine, Kurt presumed Blaine suggested staying at a motel that night to give them both a bit of privacy and allow Kurt to have some space after finding out about his dad's business being sold. It was all he could offer Kurt, after all, since flowers and chocolates weren't enough to console him and certainly not a luxury they could dabble in.

It was agreed that they should stay in the motel for a few days, in order to avoid being caught by the military. A Do Not Disturb sign was placed on the outside of their doors, just in case a housekeeper stopped in, and the girls went to the nearest town to buy themselves each some swimsuits in order to take advantage of the tiny heated pool the motel had to offer in the way of recreation. Kurt was essentially stuck in the room, but it was luxury compared to how they had spent the past few nights and the months before their escape. Besides, as one problem seemed to be taken care of, another crept upon them.

Blaine's sniffles manifested into a cold, which then seemed to mutate into a flu. He tried to get Kurt to room with Sebastian, to avoid his germs, but Kurt wouldn't hear of it. Instead, he made sure Blaine was comfortable, nested in their shared bed with as many blankets as he could put on him, water beside the bed which he insisted Blaine drink, and a puke bucket which, unfortunately, Kurt had to empty into the toilet more than a few times. The girls and Sebastian avoided the room, which stunk like the vomit being brought up in it, only dropping off food and medicine as Kurt asked them to.

For the most part, Blaine slept. The only time he got up was when Kurt insisted he eat, when he had to go to the bathroom, or when Kurt insisted he have a bath. To anyone else, it might have been annoying, but for the first time in a long time, Kurt felt useful, and he actually found himself bemused by the little child Blaine morphed into when he was ill, all whining and whimpering and pouting and insolent. He argued over everything - from eating to washing, and Kurt had to coax him into taking medicine with promises of snuggles, despite Blaine's worries that he'd get ill himself.

Beyond caring for Blaine, Kurt watched a lot of news and daytime television. He paid special attention to the reports about the impending summit between world leaders that seemed to be being hosted not to far away if the media was accurate. With Brittany's blessing, he also purchased several movies to watch, catching himself up on the latest blockbusters. Blaine got better, though slowly, and Kurt was sure he would leave an imprint on the mattress from where he had been laying.

"You're a good doctor." Blaine admitted to Kurt, a few days after their arrival, after his fever had run its course.

"I had good motivation for my patient to get better." Kurt murmured, wiping a warm cloth over Blaine's face where all the stubble had grown into a ragged beard.

"What was that?"

"Sex. Duh."

Blaine laughed for the first time in days, and it was music to Kurt's ears. Part of it was a joke, but part of it was the unlocking of his Pandora's box of intimacy. However attracted he was to Blaine before they had had sex, it was at least ten times as bad now, regardless of how much stomach bile was ending up in his puke bucket. Sex was good. Actually, it was better than good. It was fucking glorious, and Kurt wanted more of it.

The pain caused by learning about his dad's business had eased over the days spent locked up in the motel, and with it, Kurt wondered what his dad was doing now. Calling his dad's number from the motel was out of the question. Someone might be listening in, just waiting to see if he was stupid enough to call his father there. He didn't have a computer to check Finn's facebook either, and he knew Carole and Burt didn't have accounts. He racked his brain trying to figure out what he could do to find answers, but kept hitting dead ends.

"I don't think we're getting out of here for awhile." Santana said by way of a greeting as she sashayed into the room, carrying shopping bags in each arm and followed by the rest of the group.

"Why's that?" Kurt asked, peering at the bags, and wishing he could just as easily go shopping.

"That summit we've been following on the news? It's somewhere right around here. They have roadblocks and there's military guys everywhere."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Kurt's eyes went wide as he looked towards Blaine, whose own face was equally distressed. "You all need to go then. You pass as normal. Don't use any powers and they can't catch you -"

"Oh please birdman." The bags were dropped to the floor and Santana took up a seat beside Kurt's tense form, bringing an arm around his shoulders, "We are not abandoning you here. Besides, the best place to hide is right under their noses."

"Yeah Kurt. We're like a big, almost all gay family." Brittany asserted as she took up residence on the other side of him.

"Way to ruin the totally gay side of the family Quinn." Sebastian said with a laugh looking to the blonde beauty who just tossed her hair back over her shoulders with a smug smirk.

"You saved me Kurt. I'm not leaving you behind just like you didn't leave me behind."

Kurt's heart warmed and solidified immensely with each person's words, finalized by the all too familiar hand on his back that gently rubbed between the base of his wings. "We stick together. For better or worse."

"Better damned well be for better because I don't see it getting much worse than it has been." Sebastian noted plainly.

So they stayed, watched the rest of the motel rooms fill up around them, and pretended like they were the college kids on a prolonged road trip they had been posing as. Santana even flirted it up with some of the journalists staying at the motel, joking that it was way too easy to get their attention when she had her itsy bitsy teeny weeny red bikini on at the pool.

Kurt didn't know if he could handle watching Blaine flirt with people the way Brittany watched Santana do it. Even though Sebastian was the one with the silver tongue ability, Santana was the one who knew how to manipulate, and for no other reason than to get information that they were just as easily able to get by watching the news. For some reason she thought the information she was getting was someone much more valid.

"It just corroborates what they're saying on the news. Second sources and all. Makes us more sure about what to do or not to do."

She did find out that most of the other residents at the motel were B-grade journalists, reporting for smaller circulating periodicals. The big name journalists and reporters were staying in a much nicer hotel down in the main area of the nearby town, along with most of the military personnel overseeing security for the event.

It made Kurt's skin crawl everytime he thought about how close they all were. No matter how much everyone else tried to assure him that everything would be alright, he couldn't help but think that everything would come crashing down around them again.

Blaine picked up on Kurt's mood, snuggling him close, and holding Kurt tight while he rambled through his worries, and momentarily cleared his mind with the force of their bodies against one another. It was another added benefit of sex, the complete bliss that shut out any and all of his worry, and each time they found themselves in bed, they found out something that made it better each time.

Though, admittedly, Kurt was getting to the point where both his ass and his dick felt raw from overuse. As much as he discovered it was addictive, he had to wonder how much of the sex they were having was out of boredom. A motel room offered only so many recreational options after all.

"God. It stinks worse in here than it did when Blaine was tossing his cookies." Santana snarked as she brought in their evening meal - which looked like drive-thru burgers… again.

Kurt grimaced, knowing full well what had caused that odor and wishing there was something more he could do about it. He wasn't ashamed of what he and Blaine were doing to occupy their time, but he also didn't need every having to comment on the obvious results.

"Whad'ya'mean?' Blaine asked as he stuffed several fries into his mouth at once, making Kurt wince and Santana smirk.

"It smells of male on male action in here." Santana elaborated, and Kurt watched his boyfriend go from cream to red in a blink of an eye as he froze mid-chew and then sniffed the air to get a sense of what Santana was talking about.

"Don't worry. I'll pick you boys up some air freshener on my next shopping trip."

"Does it really… smell like that?" Blaine uttered after choking back the fries left in his mouth once Santana saw herself out.

Kurt made a small smile and just nodded once. It was enough to make Blaine groan and fall back onto the bed. "God. I thought that was musk. I thought that's what people were always talking about when they talked about someone's musk…"

"Deers are responsible for musk honey. Men are responsible for… whatever this smell is." Kurt waved a hand through the air and all the invisible sex scented particles floating around them.

"Honey?"

"Hmm?"

Blaine sat back up, doe eyes focused on Kurt intently. "You called me honey."

"Is that okay?"

Blaine's nodded rapidly, a goofy, childlike grin stretching over his features. "Yeah. I like it. It's.. domestic."

A snicker escaped from Kurt's mouth, and then was muffled as his mouth found Blaine's and dinner was ignored in favor of adding more of the noxious scent to the already saturated room.

The plan for the next day was to hide inside again, though perhaps sneaking into one of the other rooms so housekeeping could deal with their accumulated mess. Quinn had kept her room quite tidy and clean, citing that because she wasn't getting down and dirty with anyone, it was easy to keep things clean.

"Not even your hand?" Sebastian tutted, making everyone look in opposite directions with red burning in their cheeks. Everyone that is, except for Santana.

"Wanky."

They played some board games that were picked up at the store, watched the news which told them that the summit was going to be underway soon, and briefly played a game of truth or dare that ended prematurely when Quinn refused to answer a truth about her sexual past.

"It's not like the rest of us aren't in the know about that sort of stuff Quinn." Brittany said quietly when Quinn had gone to pout at the other side of the room.

"I know, and that's not why I'm upset."

"You know you can confide in us right? If something's wrong…"

"It's just…" Quinn sighed and looked back at the less than patiently waiting group. "... when you guys… "do your thing", there's not as many consequences. The one time I did…."

"Wait, just once? Girl you are missing out!"

"Quiet Santana." Blaine snapped with a glare, nodding back to Quinn to indicate that she should continue.

"The one time I did, I ended up pregnant."

There was a chilly silence in the room as eyes grew wide and stares were exchanged. Kurt could scarcely believe it. He hadn't known Quinn for long, but he knew enough that she didn't seem the kind of girl to make a mistake like that.

"I had a cooler, and it was my first cooler, and then I hooked up with my boyfriend's best friend… next thing you know…" She tossed her hands up in the air, "I'm being sent away for "bible studies" for the rest of the year."

"And… your baby…?" Kurt hesitated with each syllable.

"Adopted. I didn't know about my abilities until I gave birth. Dr. Ryan said the trauma of childbirth probably activated some latent genes or… god, I don't know. I just know I went from being hidden in one place for one reason to being hidden in another place for another reason."

Brittany was the first to encircle Quinn in a hug, and Blaine followed shortly thereafter. Kurt was next, and finally Santana and Sebastian joined in such that Quinn was smothered in them all, having to fight them off with a laugh and a smile that seemed so out of place after everything she had just admitted.

"You guys… you're great though. You make being on the run worth it."


	16. Chapter 16

_**I have no excuse for posting this late other than the fact that my husband gave me my Xmas gift early and it has taken over all my time. I now have an Xbox One and have been playing Dragon's Age Inquisition well longer than I should each day. When I'm not doing that, my mind is focused on thoughts surrounding Part III of H &HW, which is horrible because it means I'm not dedicating the mental power to coming up with anything great for this fic.** _

_**However, if you haven't see it yet, I've posted the animation crazie-crissie made for H &HW to my tumblr page. It's pretty damned awesome if I do say so myself.** _

* * *

It had been so damned long since Blaine had known what it was like to have someone not only care for him, but to be able to feel comfortable letting someone do so. When he had gotten miserably sick, Kurt was there to pamper and tend to him even when Blaine was bowed over the toilet bowl and telling Kurt to leave him be out of his own embarrassment. When Blaine was reliving his greatest sadness in life, namely the death of his mother, Kurt didn't run and hide like he thought he might, fearful of Blaine and what he had done. Kurt comforted him, insisted he trusted Blaine despite it, and continued to lay at Blaine's side at night. Blaine could let go around Kurt. Kurt had now seen the worst of Blaine - both physically and emotionally, and he hadn't decided that Blaine wasn't worth the effort, instead, Blaine could see that Kurt felt more tied to Blaine than ever with the cool hues emanating off Kurt's body whenever he looked Blaine's way.

Blaine could also see that Kurt was getting a little stir crazy being struck in the motel for so long, but no more so than he had been at the compound as things became more crowded there. Personally, Blaine enjoyed the domesticity and oodles of sex they had been experiencing in the motel room, but because he wanted to give Kurt everything, he wanted to get moving too so he could see Kurt soar once more, and see the joy that it gave Kurt.

It had been so long since Kurt had flown.

He could also see the nervousness Kurt had about their present situation. More than just being in a motel with journalists all around, but knowing how close the military was to them again, and the other national guards that came with their own government leaders from around the world. Blaine still saw Adam's collapsed form behind his eyelids whenever he blinked, and it was a constant reminder of what the military did to people like them. Still, he felt safe for the moment, and Santana did have a point about hiding right under the nose of your enemy. Logically, he hoped, they wouldn't be thought of to be looked for at the motel.

Blaine ran a hand over the wing stretched over him. Still just as soft, just as silken as the white feathers before, but ebony. He was used to them now, and whether black or white, he loved those wings. Some of Blaine's friends back in Dalton had identified as 'butt-men' or 'boob-men'. Blaine was definitely a wing man. Heaven help him if Kurt ever left him because there would be no one else to satisfy his silly kink.

Kurt was still asleep, sprawled out, both body and wings, beside him. Blaine was now used to having wings blanket him at night, and on the rare occasion they didn't spread over him, he nudged himself against Kurt and whined until Kurt put a wing over him unconsciously. It was the only way he could fall asleep anymore, and Kurt didn't seem to mind doing it. In fact, Blaine was pretty sure Kurt did it out of wanting to protect Blaine, much like Blaine would do anything to protect Kurt.

Sometimes, when he had been stuck in bed with that horrible flu, Blaine had thought back to how he had taken care of Kurt after Kurt had been attacked by those off-duty police officers. At the time Blaine thought he was going to go deaf from the way Kurt unconsciously screamed and cried right by his ear as Blaine cradled him in the construction lot that he hoped and prayed no one was close enough to to come check out. If his mother's dead had been the worst moment in his life, and the military siege of the compound had been the second, than that had been the third. He had been so worried and cried so much on his own. Even Isabelle hadn't been able to console him when she had arrived. It had taken sleep that came out of his body shutting him down to finally calm him.

"Mmm… happy birthday."

Blaine glanced down from where he had been staring at the ceiling to look down at Kurt, whose head had nested itself on Blaine's shoulder in sleep. Now he was looking up at Blaine, eyes glazed over still as they worked to focus themselves back into the conscious realm and directed at Blaine.

"You know my birthday?"

"Of course I do you dork." Kurt said, a yawn breaking up the sentence as he sat up and stretched his arms and wings out. A few pops and cracks came with the pull of his muscles and Blaine watched with dreamy eyes at the man that was his and his alone.

"But I never told you."

"Back at the farmhouse, when I was cleaning things up…. I found a birthday card in a drawer from your brother."

"Ah." Blaine mouthed, the image of Cooper forming in his head. He wondered how his brother was doing, and if he thought of him ever.

"I wish I had something to give you." Kurt murmured, snuggling back against Blaine who wrapped an arm automatically around Kurt's shoulders.

"You've already given me everything I could ever want."

"Sap." Kurt snicked and leaned over to peck Blaine's cheek. A moment which was immediately intruded upon by the rest of their group bursting through the door with a cake in Brittany's hands with candles lit up over it.

Blaine went wide eyed, glancing Kurt's way and just getting a small, smug smile in return. He planned it.

"You guys shouldn't have." Blaine insisted as the cake was put under his nose.

"Yes we should have. Now blow the damned things out. Been forever since I had ice cream cake." Santana grumbled.

Blaine complied, making sure to leave one candle lit. His family had always reasoned that the amount of candles you had still burning was the number of boyfriends or girlfriends you'd have. Blaine's mother and father had always left one lit to symbolize that they had the other. Cooper had always refused to blow out any candles, citing that he needed as many girlfriends as possible.

"One boyfriend." Blaine grinned, looking Kurt's way and getting a playful smack on the arm as Kurt once again shied away from the verbal affection.

"Sap."

Cake was their breakfast then, and Blaine understood why Kurt had insisted they put on pyjamas after their sexual exploits the night before. Despite knowing that Brittany's credit card had paid for all the gifts, Blaine was presented with items from each individual. Quinn gave him a new cologne which she noted that Kurt had given his approval on, Sebastian gave him a book on gay sex positions which he had quickly hidden under the covers with a blush, Brittany had given him a stuffed bear, Santana had found him a hunting knife to fit in the slot he had for one in his uniform, and Kurt… even though Kurt hadn't been able to go out and buy it himself, presented him with an acoustic guitar.

"You're behind on your practicing."

Blaine beamed, turning the guitar over in his hands and, just like one remembers how to ride a bike, set his fingers and hands in place and began to strum chords to make sure it was in tune.

Once it was clear that Blaine knew what he was doing with the guitar, requests came in from everyone.

"Johnny Cash!"  
"Anaconda!"  
"Play some Elton John!"  
"Oh! Twinkle twinkle little star!"  
"Do you know any country songs?"

Kurt didn't request anything. Just beamed a little too broadly Blaine's way as he got up and picked up pieces of scattered wrapping paper to place into the trash. Blaine was good with playing songs by ear, and after he made sure he actually remembered his chords, he began picking the strings and playing Blackbird by the Beatles.

"Ugh. Of course you'd opt to serenade your boyfriend." Santana spat in the most sweet way she could. Her aura couldn't hide from Blaine after all, and through it he could see that she approved of his song selection.

Kurt knew the words, and Blaine already knew he would as Kurt had mentioned how he and his mother had always sung Beatles songs together as they were her favorite group. His countertenor voice sung the tune perfectly, and the other chimed in to fill in the musical gaps that came with only having a guitar playing and not a whole chorus of instruments.

They were through most of the song when Kurt stopped abruptly and narrowed his eyes. Something had caught his eye and made his body spike with sharp reds and yellows as he peeked through the space between the curtains. Blaine set the guitar to the side and stood up, joining Kurt's side to see what had afflicted him while Santana opened the door to peek outside and do the same.

The journalists were running amok, pointing at yelling at one another. Camera's were flashing and being set up, pointed in a direction they couldn't see from where they were situated. In response, Santana and Brittany left the room, Blaine keeping a steady eye on them as they spoke to one of the closest cameraman. Everyone was panicked, fearful, and worried.

"We should put on our uniforms." Blaine uttered softly so only Kurt could hear.

Kurt didn't say anything in response, just left Blaine's side and grabbed his duffel bag before rushing to the bathroom to change. Something was wrong. Blaine didn't know what, or if it would even affect them, but he knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once Kurt had returned to the room, Blaine took his turn. Despite sitting on his ass for the past week, he had lost weight it seemed - probably from the flu, and his outfit was a little bit loose on him. He unwrapped the hunting knife Santana had given him, putting it into the sheath on his thigh before rejoining Kurt. The rest of the group had gone out, joining Santana and Brittany as they looked in the same direction all the cameras were pointed towards, and Blaine wished he knew what was going on, but wasn't going to leave Kurt's side.

Sebastian was the first to return to the room, eyes wide and worried, as if the aura shuddering around him didn't already tell Blaine something was wrong.

"There's an attack… the sky towards the town is all lit up… and you can hear guns firing. All the guys out there have messages going off on their phones like crazy…."

Blaine sucked in a breath, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Who's under attack?"

"Some say it's government officials, some are saying it's the pro-metahuman protesters, some-"

"Protesters?" Kurt's head snapped towards Blaine. "Like my dad was on the news?"

Blaine didn't want to think about what could happen if Burt was involved in what appeared to be a giant mess. "I'm sure your dad is fine."

"Metahumans are definitely involved though. The guy Santana is talking to showed us a video on his phone from a friend on the inside… some guy that change into shadow was on it. Crazy shit…."

Kurt had left Blaine's side, flicking on the television and seeing for himself what was going on. The channel it turned to was already reporting with a clearly frightened journalist reporting from "inside the danger zone". Behind him, Blaine watched as military personnel, dressed in their camouflage and fully equipped, were yelling at one another far in the background, and a mother with a toddler aged child held the boy tightly as she looked around with fear.

Then they showed footage that made Blaine's heart sink with the realization that they weren't going to stay out of the fray. It wasn't the center of the image that made his heart pound, where a well dressed man with flames jumping from hand to hand addressed the people, telling them that metahumans were the next step in evolution, nor was it the glassy eyes politicians on one side of the room, with their youthful aides standing in front of them protectively. It was the group of protesters, signs held loosely in their hands as their eyes glued onto the mess they had voluntarily stepped into, Burt, Carole, and Finn amongst them clear as day.

Apparently life wasn't going to give Blaine the break he wanted.

Kurt, as anticipated, spiked with cloudy yellows and greens and reds. Fear and anger dancing around him as his hands went to his mouth and his stomach with a weakly uttered "Daddy…" before he turned to Blaine with tears threatening to fall from the corners of his eyes and before his lips moved, Blaine knew what was going to be said.

"I need to go to him."

Blaine just nodded, looking towards Sebastian who shook his head. "No. Too risky."

"It's my dad Sebastian. I'm not debating it. Whether or not anyone else supports me, I'm going."

"That guy with the fire. He's the head of the pro-meta movement. He wants humanity dead so metahumans can take their place. He's not going to negotiate anymore than than our government was going to agree not to kill us."

"Sebastian." Blaine set a hand on his shoulder as he moved towards the door. "Like Kurt said. We have no choice."

"You do Blaine. You don't have to-"

"I do." Blaine asserted plainly. "Can you fly?"

Kurt nodded, though uncertainly jumped around him. They stepped out into the parking area of the motel, wincing as both their eyes adjusted to the sunlight they had become so unaccustomed to. There was silence for a moment, and then Blaine realized that some of the cameramen had turned their focus onto Kurt, who deftly ignored him as he wrapped his arms around Blaine and beat his wings. Blaine could hear Santana yelling in spanish, Brittany crying out to them both, and see the fear in Quinn's eyes as they took off - but there was no going back.

Adrenaline filled Blaine as they rose into the sky, Kurt intend on heading towards the blue lit area that was the focus of the cameramen before they saw him, the same place shots were being fired and people's screams could be heard.

They had just escaped from such a place two weeks before, and now they were headed into one. It seemed like insanity, or maybe some kind of divine intervention. Whatever it meant, Blaine wondered if they'd ever really be able to just relax.

Kurt got high enough into the air to level himself out, holding onto Blaine and Blaine back onto him as they soared horizontally through the air. Blaine peeked below, at the specs of people who were pointing and staring up at them, and kept watch for any missile launchers that could be directed at them before they even got to their destination. Kurt was so focused on seeking out his dad, Blaine just knew that if a missile came their way, he'd try to fly right through it, regardless of how many bits they'd be blown into.

It was difficult to miss the center of the event. Something or someone had a green glow all around the perimeter of the meeting place, and Blaine discerned it must be for keeping people out, keeping them in, or both. Kurt could fly over the top of the aura like fencing though, and so he did, straight towards the nondescript, brown, one story building where groups of people were huddled together and several metahumans, apparent by the way they moved - one with faster than average speed, one with freakishly long legs that had her standing eight foot tall, one with hair that seemed to be made of electrical sparks, and another that seemed to be the source of the green barrier by the way he cast out green towards it from his fingertips. They all saw Kurt and Blaine coming, but even the fast one could do little to stop what Kurt did next.

It was the second time Blaine heard Kurt's siren cry, and it was just as shocking as the first time. For awhile, Blaine had even forgotten that Kurt was capable of it, but the sharp, deafening noise made him remember and quickly at that. All the metahumans ahead of them crumpled down to the ground with a cry. The man with electric hair was suddenly bald, the speedster fell flat, the long legged girl was suddenly as short as the rest of them, and the barrier feel just as its maker did.

Kurt landed himself and Blaine down amidst the metahumans, letting go of Blaine to swing punches at the metahumans who, between not anticipating a metahuman backlash and suddenly finding themselves in pain from their ears, were unable to fight back. Blaine did absolutely nothing but watch Kurt, in all his glory, drop all four of them and then call to the saucer eyes humans nearby to come and tie them all up.

Then he was off again, with Blaine racing behind him. With Kurt's eagle eyes, he was seeking out his dad and had already decided he wasn't among the people they had landed by. He moved towards where he could see the signs of protesters scattered on the ground, their bearers curled up and crying, hiding back against the walls in hope that they could protect them. This was where his dad should have been, but given how increasingly panicked Kurt was becoming, Blaine knew he wasn't spotting him.

"Burt Hummel! Who knows where Burt Hummel is?!" The black angel roared at the protesters who cringed in fear, not knowing metahuman from metahuman. They were just as scared of Kurt as they were of the ones that had put them in this predicament.

Most people remained mute, but one woman pointed towards the building door they were pressed against, and it was all that was required for Kurt to storm forward.

By the cry Kurt made when he entered the door, Blaine knew his target had been found long before he saw Burt, who Kurt went immediately towards. Laying on the ground of the building, Burt was unconscious, and had Carole and Finn beside him, worry smothering them with oranges and yellows.

"Dad… What happened?"

"Kurt… oh my god. You're alive…" Carole choked out, her voice strained from what was probably crying. "Your dad stepped in front of us when one of those things tried to demonstrate their power…"

Kurt dropped to his knees, reaching for his dad's hand. He bit down on his lower lip and Blaine watched as Kurt forced the tears in his eyes down. "Daddy…"

"We don't know how to help him." Finn muttered, a hand on his mother's back as she tried to support her the only way he knew how.

Blaine looked around the dark room. It was functioning as some kind of makeshift infirmary. People, on their backs, laid out in rows with family or friends at their side. Everyone had frozen when Kurt had entered through, all fixated on his wings, all afraid.

"We're not part of that metahuman group." Blaine spoke towards the crowd. "We're here to help you."

Suspicion, wariness, trepidation… and a small hint of hope. Blaine kept speaking, hoping to improve on the last feeling. "My friend here… this is his dad, and we need to help him, and we'll help you all too. We're not the same as the others. If you tell us what's happened, we might be able to do something to help you all out, or bring help in."

"The politicians were walking through the protesters when there was an earthquake or something. Everyone fell. Next thing you know this guy is in the middle of it all, telling us we're evolutionary throwbacks and that metahumans will rule the world soon. He got anyone with a camera to record his message, and then shot stuff out of him. Your buddy's dad there took one of those hits. Near as we can figure it shuts off all the unnecessary parts of the brain. The ones that make you do more than breathe and stuff. Then the guy and a couple of his metahuman buddies took the leaders away."

Blaine sucked in a breath, taking in all the information. The guy speaking was leaned back against the wall by a woman on the ground, and as he looked to her, he could see he had the most hope of anyone else in the room.

"Maybe.. if we can stop him… they can wake up… like Quinn can't hold her ability when she's unconscious." Blaine spoke to himself, glancing back to Kurt to see if he was even paying attention.

"What if we can't? Or what if we do and it doesn't help?" Kurt choked, still struggling with keeping his emotions down.

"Kurt. It's your dad. We need to try."

That was as much convincing as Kurt needed, and as much as Blaine didn't want to worry about Kurt rushing into a dangerous situation, he knew that now that they were in this situation, the only way out was fighting.

"Please take care of my dad Carole… Finn…" Kurt murmured softly as he stood, looked to Blaine, and nodded.

They left the way they came, out the door, and Blaine looked over to see, with relief, that the humans had tied up the metahumans Kurt had dropped earlier and were now encircled around them to guard.

Kurt's ears twitched just a little as he focused on listening and then nodded down the block. "That way. I can hear people crying and talking fast."

They ran down the street, and before Blaine could tell Kurt to wait and plan their attack, Kurt was bursting through the door to the building he was focused on, Blaine, as always, in his shadow.

"Not here." Kurt grumbled as he looked around at the throng of women, children, and a couple odd men who were all huddled up together in the center of the room and looking at the corners in fear. It was an odd sight, and as Kurt turned to leave the room, Blaine grabbed him by the arm and pointed at one of the corners.

The shadow there was moving, almost sneaking, towards them.

"What's going on…?"

"Use your cry Kurt…"

Blaine's ears rang as Kurt cried out towards the wall, making the group of people in the center of the room cry out as well. The desired effect was had though. From the shadows on the wall, a person fell out. Just like Sebastian had told them. A metahuman that could travel in shadows.

Just like before, Kurt was on the guy in an instant, punching him out while Blaine approached the group, seeing how the children were in the center behind the adults. They had been protecting them. "It's okay. We're here to help. We're not like them."

As it was in the infirmary, most of the people regarded them with suspicion, but one dark skinned woman stood up and, though the streaks on her face showed she had been crying, approached them with a stone face and offered Blaine a hand.

"First Lady Smith. Thank you…. he… that thing, was keeping us captive in here. Everytime we tried to move he somehow made the shadows attack us. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before."

In a time of crisis, the titles and positions people had shouldn't have impressed as much as they might normally, but Blaine's hand immediately went clammy as he took the woman's and shook it weakly. Years of growing up in a home where important people were a big deal, to be respected and awed, came back to him all at once.

"I… ah… your majesty." He mentally smacked himself for that as he quickly spoke to fix his mistake. "I mean, it's an honor to meet you ma'am. My parents always voted Republican."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kurt rolling his. His black winged boyfriend was using some twine to tie back the hands and legs of the shadow man, and directing a couple less stunned humans to put on every light, candle, and flashlight they could find. If he didn't have shadows to use, he was harmless Kurt reasoned.

"They took us here to use as a bargaining tool. We're the families of the leaders who came to negotiate. However, now that we're okay, they have no leverage."

Blaine nodded, watching the woman's aura carefully as he tried to reason with his mind which was still doing ridiculous flips at this most inopportune time as a response to meeting someone so important in the world.

"My friend's dad… he was one of the protesters the main guy hit. We need to find that guy and stop him… try to help the people he hurt. Do you know where they took your husband and the others?"

The woman pursed her lips, looking back at Kurt who was nothing short of impatient. Clearly the family of world leaders were nothing compared to his own family, and he was radiating irritation at being delayed in his quest.

"Why should I tell metahumans where to find my husband?"

"Because we're trying to help."

"So you say." The woman looked back at Blaine with steely eyes. "But how can I trust you when your friend is clearly more dangerous than the one who was holding us here?"

Blaine sighed, exasperated and unsure of how to convince the woman. A shared glance with Kurt told Blaine that he needed to figure out how, and fast, though, and so Blaine looked past the woman before him to the rest of the humans there.

"Does anyone know where they are? Does she speak for all of you?"

Some silence, some whispers. The whispers grew into murmurs while the woman in front of Blaine huffed and folded her arms over her chest.

"The meeting location for negotiations is down the street two blocks in a conference center. That's where the ringleader told our husbands, and wives," She looked towards the few men there, "to take him. For his NEW negotiations."

"Thank you." Blaine said to the silver haired woman that spoke to him, hope radiating off of her desperately. With the shadow man bound and light everywhere, Kurt went to the exit without another word, and Blaine followed.

Blaine always followed.


	17. Chapter 17

_**And…. one more chapter after this and it's done.** _

_**Again, I rushed to get this one out since it's late, so I apologize for any major grammatical errors, redundancies, stupidities, and otherwise bone-headed mistakes I probably made. I would like to dedicate this chapter to my dog, Worf, who is awesome. Seriously, my dog is the shit. He probably has cancer (not that I can get a clear diagnosis from the vets up here since all they're used to is sticking hands up cow asses all day and can't do a biopsy for the life of them), but he's tough as hell and still my puppy.** _

_**Also… yay holidays! One of the few times of year when being a teacher really pays off.** _

* * *

His mind was a blur of could-of-beens and regrets. For the entirety of their short relationship, Kurt had been focusing on the day-to-day joys of being with Blaine, but now, as he rushed towards the building he had been directed to, images filled his mind. Unwrapping presents as they sat beside a Christmas tree with his family around them both. Lazy mornings spent in bed with sunlight draping over them both from a window. Presenting his dad with his first grandchild that had black curly locks of hair. Pulling away a sold sign on a little house on a boulevard, great old trees separating them from the street and embracing before they went to collect boxes from a moving van. All these little scenes dropped into his mind like rain as he moved ahead, so focused on saving his father that he was only now considering the predicament he had not only put himself into, but also Blaine and the rest of the group.

He had exposed them all, or at least implicated them. He had allowed Blaine to come with him and as they moved closer to the brown building at the end of the road, the thoughts of what could have been were replaced with thoughts of what could happen. Worst case scenarios that made him regret eating ice cream cake for breakfast the way it was rising up his esophagus mixed with the bile from his belly. The absolute worst, the thing that he kept trying to push out of his mind, was that he'd fail in trying to help his father and somehow in the process, Blaine would end up dead too. There was nothing he could think of that could possibly sicken him more than that - especially if he lived through it to have to see it.

Regardless of that all, Kurt still moved ahead. Blaine followed him with loyalty even a dog would be hard pressed to commit to, and never questioning Kurt's need to rise to action. This was no way for him to be spending his birthday, but then again, Kurt's last birthday had been spent in the compound, with no one even aware of it passing for it to be celebrated. At the time, Kurt was glad of it. He didn't have his dad to celebrate it with him after all, and he knew he couldn't ask for anything given the situation, but now he wished that Blaine at least knew. There was something important about knowing the birthday of your boyfriend.

"Looks like there's a back entrance Kurt."

He nodded to Blaine's observation, still looking ahead. They had no idea if there was anyone watching the perimeter, how many metahumans they'd be up against, or what kind of powers they would be squaring off against. What Kurt could see was the bodies of men and women in uniform, laying lifeless around the building they had probably been guarding before the attack. How many times was Kurt going to have to face death? When would it become easier to see? To smell? To understand?

"You should stay back here."

"To do what?" Blaine scoffed, feet hitting the pavement harder than Kurt's own as they ran - since he needed to run harder to keep up with Kurt's longer legs and lighter body. "Watch you fight who knows what from afar? You know I won't Kurt. No more than you would if our roles were reversed."

"If our roles were reversed I'd still want you to stay back while I fought for you."

They slowed as they got closer, edging around the buildings so they could come up on the back entrance from the alleyway. If they had any luck at all they wouldn't be seen until they were in.

"I'm going with you, come hell or high water."

He sighed, and looked back long enough to give Blaine a nod. He shouldn't have let himself get so emotionally tied up in black curls, big eyebrows, and amber eyes. It would have been easier. He would have been able to think more rationally.

But if he had to go back in time? To tell his year younger self what was coming? He knew it wouldn't make a difference. No one could tell Kurt what to feel or not to, and his heart had been head over heels in love with Blaine long before his head even realized it. His younger self probably would have just been amazed that someone would be interested enough in him to want to be with him. A fact that still gave Kurt pause.

As they reached the building, they dropped down, creeping on bent knees to the back door. Inside Kurt could hear voices. He sometimes wondered if others could hear like he did, if the noise coming into his ears was for him alone or if Blaine could pick it up too. Everything sounded the same to him so he was never sure if it was his normal hearing or the hearing that came with his especially attuned senses.

"Kurt.. before we…"

He silenced Blaine's words with a finger to his lips. He knew what Blaine was going to say. Hell, knowing how sentimental Blaine could be, Kurt was surprised he didn't anticipate it before hand. It was, however, one of those things that didn't need to be said. He knew, just as much as he was sure Blaine knew how he felt without having to verbalize it. Just because some things weren't spoken aloud, didn't mean they didn't exist.

Kurt pushed in a little on the door, cringing up his spine as it squeaked with the small movement. The back door opened up into a kitchenette, which looked unattended. No doubt the metahumans who had instigated this attack though that they had cleared out the military resistance and were safe with their barrier protecting them. He wondered if they knew that it had been taken down. Kurt reminded himself not to get overconfident. The last time he had rushed in being so sure of himself, he had been grounded and his feathers had come in black when they did regrow. It was a lesson he had told himself he wouldn't forget, and now was the perfect time to remember to ensure he was careful about his approach.

They snuck in, still on their knees to avoid being seen from the windows on the doors leading into the kitchen from further into the building. The voices were clearer now, enough that Kurt could make out the words and Blaine's head perked up as he looked towards the source of them.

"I refuse to agree to such ridiculous terms!"

"You make a mistake in assuming you have the freedom to agree or disagree Mister President. I am TELLING you how this will play out."

"None of us will abide by it. The people will not -"

"Then they will die and be made examples of."

"History is full of bullies of your type that have found themselves toppled. Victims of their own making."

"And history is also written by the victors. By all accounts, the history of metahumans will speak of how they were bullied by your regime and how they overcame it."

"Not all of the nations have treated metahumans like the United States -"

"You are correct Prime Minister. However, it is an unfortunate reality that the United States sets a precedent. After all, despite being only one of two countries in the world to still use the Imperial system of measurement, other countries end up learning both metric and imperial so they can effectively trade with the United States. It may not be number one in anything, but it is still the loudest of countries, and still sets a model socially for others. Perhaps if your countries had stood up to it before we had to reach this point…"

"We have made progressive policies! You can't tell our people they are to be slaves-"

"You're right. I won't. You will."

"I refuse."

"Then I will kill you, your family, and anyone else in a position of authority from your country that tries to oppose me - right down to the last person standing."

"Humanity will not be enslaved by monsters!"

"Humanity IS the monster."

Back and forth like that. The same voice from the video recording speaking in opposition to several political leaders. The basis of the conversation was clear to understand: The metahumans intended to turn the tables on humanity by enslaving them under threat of death, and the leaders gathered were trying their best, albeit desperately, to argue back.

They were clearly not making any headway.

"There must be some amicable way for this to end pleasantly." A woman's voice suggested with a deep, throaty accent Kurt couldn't place. "Perhaps a territory for metahumans-"

"Yes. Because that worked SO well for the Jewish people." was the snorted, sarcastic rebuttal. "We don't want land anyhow."

"You want respect. Freedoms. Fine. We can -"

"No. I don't want those things either. Not from you. Not when it will have to be forced."

Kurt peeked through the doors, trying to spy in and see if the one metahuman talking was the only one there they'd have to face. If he was, then maybe this would be a lot easier than they had been anticipating. It was hard to make out much of anything in the small slit. Some shadows and a bit of flickering light. It certainly wasn't helpful.

"Well then why cluster us here at all if you intend to take what you want by force? Just to tell us you're going to enslave humanity?"

"Very perceptive… no… I didn't break up your little soiree just to tell you that you'll all be working for us soon." There was a pause in the metahuman's voice and Kurt nibbled along his lower lip as he tried to see something, anything, through the crack.

Blaine kept crouched beside Kurt, and whenever Kurt looked his way, he could see Blaine trying to communicate silently. Nods of the head towards the door, which Kurt shook his own head in reply to. Shrugging shoulders and arched eyebrows, which Kurt shrugged in return to. He had to be careful. He didn't want to lose his feathers, his chance at saving his dad, and Blaine.

"I came here to make a statement…." The metahuman spoke, his voice becoming clearer and louder, "... you'll notice that I don't just have one ability."

"So? No one knows the limits of the metahumans."

"And that's all of your fault. There have been no studies, no research, nothing that has been designed to educate and help my people understand themselves. How can we expect you to understand us if we can't understand ourselves after all?"

"So it's about research then?"

"No you dimwit. How did you become the leader of your country? Honestly…."

"Just tell us then. No need to act like a cartoon villain and prolong things."

"I will… just one thing first."

With that, the door was yanked away from Kurt, exposing him and Blaine to the metahuman speaking. He was tall, lanky, and as far from from a cartoon villain as Kurt could imagine. He didn't look like he had any powers to speak of, at least not outwardly. A Star Wars shirt and a pair of thick, black framed glasses made him look more like a fanboy than a criminal. Yet his eyes gave him away. Looking down at Kurt as Kurt and Blaine both stood to face him, there was no concern for them. As he looked down his nose at Kurt, Kurt could see the eyes of someone who was out for himself and himself only.

"I wasn't expecting backup."

"We're not here as backup." Blaine spat, coming up to Kurt's side protectively.

"I gathered that."

Behind him, Kurt could now see why the leaders weren't fighting back. Each one was bound to chairs arms with handcuffs around a circular table. All eyes were now on them, and Kurt's wings, which he fanned out to make himself look bigger than he was.

"You need to let these people go, and stop whatever it is you did to the people you hurt out there."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"And you two are going to make me?"

"If we have to."

Kurt thought it was enough of a threat to at least make the man bat an eyelash, but they were laughed at in return. A sickly, snide noise that made Kurt's skin crawl and his spine tense up the length of his back.

"I'm not doing anything. Look. At least you two have a choice here."

"Join with you or defy you?" Blaine huffed.

"Exactly."

"We're not helping you." Kurt growled, hands balling into fists as the man turned away from him and walked around behind the leaders. "You're insane. You think we're different from them but we're not!"

"Says the only one in here with wings."

"Says the one who just wants his dad to be okay!"

He snapped his teeth together, gritting them as he admonished himself for revealing more than he probably should have in a fit of emotion. The guy acted like they weren't even a worry to him, and all it would take would be Kurt opening his lungs enough to scream at the guy and it would all be over…

"Must be nice to have such beautiful wings…." The man uttered plainly, as if what Kurt had just said was of no concern. "... The angelic symbolism… even if they are black…. A lot of superstitious people might see you as a herald from heaven."

"I'm not." His nails dug into his palms, sharp and pointed from days of not being filed down. "I'm a boy that was ripped away from his family because of something I didn't want but was stuck with. That's it."

"You could be so much more…." The man looked up from where he paused behind an olive skinned man with sweat beading down his temple. "... and your quieter friend… you ever thought of going into psychology? You could make a fortune…"

"Huh?" Blaine asked, triangular brows bunching up like a furry caterpillar as he looked Kurt's way. Confused, Kurt looked back at him and then towards the posturing metahuman once more. He was sure Blaine hadn't revealed anything about his abilities.

"You see emotion." The man supplied, gesturing out with one hand. "The colors of emotion anyhow. Fascinating. As close to telepathy as any metahuman I've ever met."

"How did you know that?" Kurt snarled, taking a step forward.

"Oh. How rude of me. I forgot our customs. See, normal humans…." He threw an arm out, indicating the tied up politicians, "Usually inform others about what their jobs are when they first meet. It's a major part of their identity… but we, well we tell each other about our gifts."

"You can sense abilities…" Blaine murmured, barely above a whisper and mostly for himself to hear as he sounded out his thoughts. He got a nod in return though, the man hearing him and grinning.

"Not just sense… absorb. Your proximity to me is allowing me to see the fear in these people. Kind of an ugly yellowish color fear is hmm? And your winged friend? Mad. You would think anger would be red given all the symbolism around it, but it's actually a mix of several colors… interesting."

"You were on a video.. shooting people down…." Kurt choked out as his brain started running a mile a minute as he flapped his wings out once to make sure the man hadn't somehow stolen them.

"A power I took from one that did not want it."

"What do you mean you took it?"

That ugly, snide smile crossed over the man's mouth, revealing his crooked teeth as he looked towards Blaine to answer his question. "He didn't want to join with me. He wanted to hide. He didn't want his gift, so I took it from him for good."

"How do you do that?"

"Watch…."

The sweating, olive skin politician, whose business suit was buttoned on too tightly, glanced up towards the man hovering by him. There was something about this one, Kurt decided, something that was unlike the rest.

"... I want the world to understand what they risk if they don't let our kind rise above. It's not merely chaotic fires and floods and attacks they risk, but their own existence. These men and women here? They think I wanted to negotiate with them, but I have nothing I want from them… but their deaths. To plunge the world into real chaos. Leaderless nations left to submit to our kind…."

"You're mad." Kurt said, shaking his head as he looked around the room, wondering if Blaine was seeing as much fear as Kurt could smell off the people in here.

"No. A madman would just bomb them and kill himself in the process. I intend to survive and lead the new era."

"So what? You expect us to stand by and watch you kill them?" Blaine hissed, taking a step forward to, once again, stand beside Kurt. "That's not going to happen."

"Imagine how the people will look upon me if I not only killed the leaders of their nations, but came out of it with angelic wings and the ability to see their thoughts in colored form?" The man mused aloud, licking his lips over. The whole scene made Kurt shiver with disgust.

"Why the hell are you talking with him! If you can stop him than do it!" One of the woman yelled from the side towards them. The statement was valid. Why were they holding fast when Kurt's gut kept telling him to move?

"Because dear… they know that even if they stop me, all they have to look forward to is being shot down by humans. Either way they'll fall and they're trying to figure out which way is preferable."

The man lifted a hand, sliding his fingers over the few hairs of the politician he was intent on. "Of course, some leaders have been smarter than others. Take Rodriguez here… hiding in plain sight…"

Everyone looked towards the man in question, who had snapped his eyes closed and was praying in rapid spanish. Kurt didn't understand much of the language, but he could tell that the man was asking for something from a god who didn't seem to be involved.

"... a metahuman leader. Oh… he could have been so much more…. but instead he hides, and takes a conservative approach in his own country around metahuman policies. He could have been a leader for our people. Instead he has been another voice that has silenced our own."

Kurt wasn't familiar with the politician, or his country - whatever it was, but looking upon the sweat soaked man, he could see the regret. Kurt could have been like him - binding his wings for all his days, repressing his metahuman side to the point of calling out other metahumans to distract from his own abilities. Could he really judge this man for something he would have done? He didn't know his story, and his motivations. Change could not be made overnight either. Who was to say he hadn't tried to help in small, less obvious steps?

All of those thoughts were for nothing though, and all the questions would be left unanswered, as in one swift stroke, the sinister metahuman sliced a finger across the man's skull, making a stomach twisting squelching noise. The rest of the leaders cried out in shock and anguish, and Kurt made to jump across the table using his wings to lift him over only to have Blaine pull him back by the hand and point at the metahumans' fingers, now pointed talons, digging into the opened grey matter on the top of the stiff politician's head. Just as quickly as Rodriguez had been exposed as a metahuman, he had also had his brain exposed.

"Such a wonderful gift he had too… didn't even understand the extent of it…. His shut down of the nuclear program makes such sense when you consider that the man was a nuclear bomb in and of himself…"

As if he didn't have his fingers twisting inside the man's brain, the metahuman continued to talk. Around the table, the world leaders were crying, vomiting over the sides of their chairs, and watching in stunned silence. Kurt connected the pieces of what was being said and his stomach sank for the upteenth time that day. A nuclear bomb contained in a man, a man that was dead and now having his body desecrated by a man that could somehow absorb the powers of others.

"We need to stop him Blaine." Kurt whispered over.

"Sensitive hearing too…" The man looked up, grinning towards the pair as Kurt jerked his head back to look at him with ire. His own powers were being used against him. "I can't wait for the wings to fully grow in…"

Fingers were pulled out from the mess of brain, and the man let out a satisfied sigh, as if he had just eaten a full meal. Kurt's talons were now on that man. He had been able to use his hearing to pick up on the whisper, and now, as the man turned purposefully to the side, Kurt could see the tearing in the back of his T-shirt from where little stubs of wings were growing.

"It's temporary for now. Only works while I'm around you… Now it's up to you whether or not I keep it permanently or not."

"You're going to blow everyone up…" Blaine interjected.

"Yes. With the power I've now taken from him I will lay waste to this area as an example of what we are capable of."

"How could you survive that? What about the other metahumans who helped you in?"

"They knew the implications of this mission. As for me… I have absorbed some regeneration abilities. I will survive and become an icon."

Kurt's mind continued to race. He looked around at the people encircled around the table. He looked at his boyfriend, trying to talk to the crazed man as if he could stop him with mere words. He looked at the stained glass in the ceiling, depicting a white winged angel carrying a cross, and he looked absently towards the door behind the man whose wings were growing with each passing second, thinking about his father who would become mere dust as a result of the insanity that was about to be committed.

With a twist of his wrist, he freed his hand from Blaine's hold, jumping over the table and tackling the man down as Blaine cried out from behind them. Kurt was not intend on just knocking him out though. Once he had a hand on the man's shirt, he sprang up and flapped his wings, smashing through the ceiling window and carrying the man up with him into the sky.

Kurt was sure he heard him cackle, and again his heart fell as he knew he was about to be disappointed in his own actions. Just like the fire, and the trap laid by the police officers, Kurt knew he had acted too impetuously and now, somehow, he would pay for it.

Talons tore at his hand, sprouting seams of blood which made Kurt wince. Instead of letting go though, he held on tighter. A glow began to form on the man, and for a moment Kurt thought he was finally seeing what Blaine saw in others. That is, until he realized that the glow was probably from the worst thing imaginable.

"Let me down or I'll blow you apart here!"

Kurt didn't respond, flying higher and higher. He didn't know what kind of regenerative powers this man had, but with the glow getting brighter, he knew that he had to get him as far away from others as he could.

Yet the man seemed calm, still clawing at Kurt wherever he could hit until Kurt recognized that his nerves were dull and not even processing the pain anymore because his body was instead focused on trying to make do with the blood that hadn't left his body. The air was getting thinner too, and as Kurt looked down to the man, he could see the first bits of panic in his eyes.

"YOU HAVE TO PUT ME DOWN!"

"No."

The glow intensified, surrounding them both. It was beyond being a threat now, and Kurt hissed as the cool air became suddenly hot. The man tried to flap his own, tiny stubs of wings, but they weren't big enough yet, and Kurt recognized that he had one shot to make the people he cared about safe from this monster. One shot.

He pushed himself, through the dull pain and the strain on his lungs, to fly higher and higher. The glow got brighter, and then, suddenly, stopped. Glancing down, Kurt saw that the man was passed out, either from the lack of oxygen getting to his more normal lungs, or from the strain of working so hard to free himself. The sensation of burning hadn't ended though, and as Kurt looked back at himself, his eyes grew round and wet as they saw that his wings were on fire. Whatever Kurt had stopped the man from doing to others, he had failed to stop him from doing to himself.

Below, the town they had flown from was a spec, and somewhere within it Kurt knew that Blaine and his dad were there. He knew they were safe, and as his feathers became ash and fell from him, he couldn't help but feel relieved. Instead of fear of his demise as he lost the ability to stay aloft and began to rocket downward, Kurt felt at peace. If there was one thing he had been gifted with, it was that he could save others, and he had never been so thankful for it as he was now, hurtling down to the earth with closed eyes and a smile on his face, clutching the man that made him realize it. With his last breath, he uttered a wish for those he loved, that they would be happy and free, before a jolt went through him as he hit the earth and everything passed into blackness.


	18. Chapter 18

*~*~*~* FOUR MONTHS LATER *~*~*~*

Blaine slid a finger over the delicate white petal of an orchid he was deciding on. It wasn't fair really, having to pick out flowers like this - especially when he didn't even know which type Kurt preferred. Blaine knew what he liked - bright gerber daisies, always cheery looking and offered in a variety of colors. Yet somehow, he presumed, Kurt's favorite would be something more tempered, something dignified, elegant, and yet somehow simple. Something so very… Kurt.

It was in that way that Blaine selected a dozen white roses, having the clerk carefully wrap the stems, with all their thorns, in paper. He was offered a card to go along with the bouquet, but none of them seemed right. Happy Birthday? No. On your graduation… No. With Deepest Sympathy. No. None of them fit the function of the flowers.

He got some looks as he walked down the street carrying the flowers. Girls mostly, whose hope sprung up around them in light violets and blues as they saw him with the flowers. Not because they thought they were for them, but because the sight of a man with a bouquet of flowers was something society had trained in them to get excited over. Getting looked at was something he wasn't used to - mostly because he still wasn't used to being so exposed. It was different when he was at Dalton and no one knew about him and his abilities, now everyone knew, or at least made the assumption with the white band around his wrist.

Change was being made. Not in leaps and bounds like many might wish for, but in slow steps. The framework had been laid out though and that was what mattered to him. Metahumans would be allowed to integrate into society provided they registered themselves. As a show of faith, Blaine had been the first to wear the band. He was the one all over the news following the attack after all, and had become something of an icon of the positive metahuman movement. The band allowed him to be tracked, but, more importantly, also allowed him to be shocked if he utilized his abilities in a dangerous way. Many metahumans were suspicious of such controls, but to Blaine, who had lost his mother because of his early inability to monitor his own gift, it made sense.

There was a focus on education and research too. Dr. Ryan, whom Blaine had reconnected with, was leading one of the study centers up in Canada. The hope was to help young metahumans learn to control and use their abilities responsibly, and also guide them towards a job where their abilities would have a natural use.

A use like Elliott's for example. After the news broke, and Blaine had been involved in working with the leaders of the nation Kurt had saved, Elliott contacted him. He had stayed in hiding during the crisis and now was an example of how metahuman abilities could be used for the greater good. In his case, it meant providing the fireworks each night at Coney Island. Somehow, and Blaine had yet to determine out exactly how, it saved the park money to have him provide fireworks.

Santana had been hired by SeaWorld, and Brittany had tagged along, now working alongside academics in California trying to solve some of those million dollar math problems. Quinn had been contracted by the military to work on camouflage technology, and Sebastian… well Sebastian was apparently putting his abilities to good use with some undercover operation that he couldn't say much about because it was all "classified".

Isabelle, who had shaved her hair off in the wake of the attacks to prove to the authorities that she was harmless, had discovered wigs, and was now making her own line of wigs for 'the modern woman who doesn't have time to do her hair every day'. They were a hit.

Blaine hadn't wanted to do anything after the attack. It still made his heart race up to think about how he had stretched his arms skyward when Kurt had grabbed that guy and launched them both out of the building, raining shards of colored glass down upon Blaine and the leaders left behind. He had cried out to the heavens, as Kurt got smaller and smaller in the sky and a dastardly green glow grew outwards from where he had headed into the clouds. He remembered himself though, working to free all the leaders and help them escape, but always looking upwards as he waited for Kurt to land by him, on his feet, and completely alright.

It hadn't happened that way.

Despite that, he managed to drag himself to podiums, where he spoke to crowds and the media about how casting metahumans as the enemy had led to that point. How all he had ever wanted to do when he was little was be a superhero, and how when he found that he had the ability to be one, society frowned upon him instead of accepting him. He talked about how he had lost his mother. How he wished that no other child who developed powers would ever have to go through that. He talked about the desperation in the compound, and how people had died in there. Blaine talked about everything.

Everything except Kurt, because that was too hard to talk about then.

Burt had awoken when Blaine went to check on him, just like they thought he would. It was with Burt's help that Blaine worked with the leaders. Together they had lengthy discussions, came up with a hundred ideas, and disseminated the information to the media. Burt was invaluable. Down to earth, empathetic, and completely committed to making sure kids - human or metahuman - had the same rights as anyone else. He was the one who gave Blaine a pat on the back or a hug when the days ran so long that even coffee couldn't fix it. He was the shoulder Blaine cried on after he had told the world about his mother, and the one that offered up the other shoulder when Blaine's brother contacted him out of the blue and asked to meet up with him.

Things had settled down now. The news was reporting on much less exciting things, and the only way anyone would know that something major had happened months ago was that the name Timothy had become as toxic as the name Adolph after World War II.

The guy that attacked the world leaders had the most unassuming name of Timothy Merletski. When his mother had been interviewed she had teared up and cried that "her Timmy-Tim was such a good boy", like all mothers do when it's revealed their children are lunatics.

Regardless of how angelic his mother thought him to be, Timothy was now in a specially designed cell under several guards watches at all times. He had been crushed into pulp when Kurt had landed atop him, but began regenerating almost immediately. It was only luck that the national guard got there in time to contain him before he regained consciousness.

At first the national guard wanted to arrest Blaine as well, but several leaders, and their spouses, spoke out against it. In their eyes, Blaine had saved them, and they argued that the only way crazy metahumans could be safely fought and contained was by employing metahumans of their own. Several countries then admitted to doing this - training and employing metahumans to keep the peace.

That was when the United States exposed that they had been keeping metahumans - at least the level five's - for use in intelligence. However, they hadn't been paying or compensating them in any way. These level five metahumans had been taken from their families, essentially enslaved, and made to use their powers to help the CIA and FBI. It caused an uproar, particularly among the families that the level five's had been taken from, and the government was now in the process of paying out compensation to those level fives and their families as what they said was "a show of good faith". There were still critics. Blaine was just glad he had never been caught and used like they had been.

He was on a vacation now. Taking a break from the overscheduled politics that had taken over his life. He knew that life was only temporary, but it was exhausting, especially since he wasn't even out of his teen years. Everyone looked at him like he had the answers, and he didn't.

The cemetery where he ended up was quiet. No one else was there to visit the remains of those they loved, yet with all the angels marking graves, it still seemed busy to Blaine. Seeing anything with wings now made him think of Kurt, and with the thought of Kurt, he felt life.

He walked between the tombstones, glancing at names that were unfamiliar to him, until he came to the grave he had come to visit, a singularly impressive angel sculpted on top of it, reaching to the heavens and grasping at the air. Blaine wondered if when it was made, the creator had any idea of who it would be made for, and if he (or she) had the ability of foresight.

"Thanks for picking those up."

Blaine glanced down at the flowers and smiled, holding them out to Kurt as he landed beside him and then drawing his wings in against his back. He wore a suit, carefully tailored to accommodate his wings, which had grown back the original white feathers with the occasional black feather that had survived the burn up.

Kurt took them, brought them to his nose, and inhaled with a soft sigh before he crouched down and set them at the grave which read Elizabeth Hummel, Beloved Wife and Mother.

"She'd be proud of you."

"That's what my dad keeps telling me."

"Who picked out the angel on the stone?"

Kurt glanced up at the sculpture, flapping his wings out once as he reflected on the memory. "I did."

"You didn't have your wings then though…"

Kurt shook his head, standing back up and looking down at the flowers he had set at his mother's grave. "No. I picked it because she liked angels and it looked like one she'd like."

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand, finding it ready for him, and clasped it in his own. "My mom has one like it too…."

"She'd be proud of you too you know."

"Your mom?"

"No… well yes, her too probably, but yours I mean."

Blaine forced up a small smile and dropped his head down a bit. "I hope so."

They stayed for awhile longer, not saying anything but listening to the silence of the graveyard. Blaine knew by looking at Kurt that he was speaking internally to his mother, and despite offering to leave him alone with her, Kurt refused and held Blaine's hand all the tighter.

When they left, it was by flight. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and took them both into the sky with several flaps of his wings. They were staying at a cabin, privately owned, where curious eyes were limited and security was strongly enforced. Burt had sold his house when he had sold the shop, and was now about to secure an apartment in Washington D.C. as he had been offered a metahuman consulting position with the government.

"You're looking at my wings again."

Blaine chuckled and nested his head in the space between Kurt's chin and neck. "Can't help it."

"I look like a damned dalmatian dog now with these spots of black."

"You look beautiful."

"If it didn't hurt so damned much I'd yank out those black feathers so they'd grow in white."

"With your luck they'd come in blue."

"Ugh."

They only had a few days before Blaine needed to get back to Washington and Kurt needed to return to where he was helping to establish a private school for metahuman youth. It was tough, having to be apart so much, but Blaine would be joining Kurt to help with the school, and finish his own schooling, once they had sorted out more of the major bills they were working on.

They spent most weekends together, which was never enough time for Kurt to fit in visiting his family and spending as much time with Blaine in bed as was possibly. It had earned them a bit of a reputation among the government staff that stayed at the apartments Blaine was living at, and one young, staunch Democrat had gone so far as to comment that being metahuman and gay must be an indication that God doesn't like you too much.

Blaine had just smirked and walked away, exaggerating his limp with pride.

Kurt had spent most of the first week after landing on Timothy in the hospital, where Dr. Ryan had travelled to observe him. He regenerated though, as he had the tendency to do, and Dr. Ryan attributed his life to using Timothy as a "meaty flesh bag" that took most of the shock out of the fall. It had been a tough week, and when Kurt was off the drugs, Blaine had given him hell for, once again, making him have to wait at his bedside and hope he'd come out of it. Then, as if Blaine's verbal diatribe wasn't enough, Burt came in and gave Kurt just as much hell for the same thing.

"I was busy saving people. Sorry." Kurt had grumbled, pulling up the thin hospital bed sheet over his face.

No one was sure why Kurt's wing feathers kept coming in differently, and Dr. Ryan had argued that it was exactly the reason they needed more research on metahumans. Kurt said he didn't feel any more or less different than he had when he had had black wings or pure white ones before, so it was still one of the mysteries that governed him.

"Have you begun your counselling training yet?" Kurt asked as they entered their cabin, loosening his tie and meandering to the fridge.

"Next week."

Just as Timothy had suggested, Blaine was going to train to be a counsellor at the school. It still seemed odd to him, and had certainly not been a profession he had ever considered when he was little, but he knew he wanted to help others, and metahuman youth in particular, so it fit.

Kurt, meanwhile, knew he wanted to teach something at the school, but he wasn't sure what. He needed to finish his schooling first though, and that meant at least a couple more years until he had to decide for sure.

"So about the name for the school…."

"We ARE NOT paying homage to any of your comic book schools Blaine. We've already been over this."

"You're right. After thinking it over I realized that without any of us having an X in our name that it makes no sense, but…"

Kurt cracked open a can of pop and looked over his shoulder, waiting for Blaine to continue. He had that look on him that Blaine knew to be him readying himself to shut down an idea.

"... What about naming it after our moms?"

"I like the thought Blaine, but how many young boys trying to prove themselves are going to want to attend a school named after two women?"

Blaine sighed and flopped down on the couch, quickly joined by Kurt who straddled over top of him and fanned his wings around them both so they were cocooned in feathers. "That doesn't mean it couldn't be named based on surnames…"

"Mmm… Hummel-Anderson School for Metahumans?"

"Or Anderson-Hummel."

"It'd have to be approved by the board."

"Like they'd argue it when they already wanted your name on the thing as it is… savior of humanity."

Kurt fake-gagged at the name one news station had given him before leaning down to peck Blaine's forehead. "I'll see what they think. Now, damn it Blaine, stop thinking work and give me attention."

Blaine was only too happy to comply. Life wasn't perfect, there were still so many problems they'd have to overcome, and prejudice to face, but they were together and safe, and for Blaine, it was as close to perfect as he could imagine.


End file.
